Barkbusters, finally

(For some reason, my camera has decided to turn all my pictures blue. Bear with me here.)

A week or so ago, the Renthal bars and barkbusters finally went on the SV. It's been over a year since I decided to finally do that, but, blah blah blah, lots of wasted money and unusable bars in between. Now, here they are. And I like it, sort-of. Still need to fine tune. I think I need risers, since the new riding position has my arms pulled so far forward that they feel straight all the time. Risers may mean longer cables and stuff, meaning complications... Also, that windscreen looks stupid with the new setup. I am toying with going back to the old flyscreen, but it was really noisy on long trips. But, then, how often do I ride to Seattle?

Dunno, but at least it's progress.
Oh, and how did I finally find bars that fit?
Streetfighters USA
Since they work on streetbikes, they are actually selling the Renthal Road bars. These will fit all your silly controls and doo-dads, the ones that dirtbikes don't have. I got the low ones, which I may not be thrilled with, since there's no cross bar, but they are a little longer in the flat part, which was a nice guarantee I wouldn't end up with another set of useless bars.

Despite being stretched out in a new riding position, it wasn't really uncomfortable on Sunday, when we rode to Tahoe and back. Unfortunately, it was HOT in the Central Valley. Ugh. Yuck, and ewww. We ate ice cream cones the size of our faces, and watched squirrels. I tried to nap on a boulder overlooking Emerald Bay, but was not allowed. Crappy rock cover bands are evil. Oh, and here's a good one: DO NOT, under any circumstances, wear swim trunks that are white. That's fucking horrible! They get wet, and, uh, see-through, oh god...

Saturday was cool because I got rid of some crap that had been piling up in my apartment for years. Photo chemicals I'd been storing in my closet since my first semester at college? Turned out to be quite easy to unload with a quick trip to the drop-off point in South SF. No problem! Then we filled up all three of Paul's Givi cases with books and went down to the library to drop them off. All gone! Yay! Tried to get rid of the used oil in Paul's garage, but got the run-around at the Berkeley drop off center (asses!) and then picked up camping gear out of a friend's garage that we'd been meaning to collect a few months back. So productive!

This weekend, Vegas, for work, and then I'm coming back and getting rid of more stuff.

Fez Monkeys

I’ve never been one to get upset about birthdays. Maybe I’m just not old enough yet, but I just tend to think that getting old isn’t such a bad thing. Well, until you start to lose it. That scares me. But I think that’s a long way off.

Despite myself, I wasn’t having a very good day yesterday. I don’t take change well, so I was a little depressed about relationships shifting in my life. At some point you have to throw up your hands and walk away, but it’s still sad. Yesterday. Sad. On the verge of tears. Maybe it’s from unrelated stress. But I don’t FEEL stressed about anything else. Huh.

Somehow, Paul made everything better, and completely spoiled me. It’s a little disgusting. We went to Pasha, which was like a train wreck. Middle Eastern is hands-down, my favorite cuisine. I’d rather have good hummus than a cupcake, probably, and that’s saying a lot.

Pasha is like a bad Disneyland version of Middle Eastern, but smarmy. That’s a good thing and a bad thing. The food was very uninspired. We had the Vegetarian Combination, and the cheese flambe, which was a sad reminder of how good the saganaki was at Byzantion in Seattle (this is one of those foods you dream about for years to come). The hummus wasn’t as good as Kan Zaman or Saha, but it was OK. Everything else was OK, except for something I ate which I thought was bad, like when you eat a strawberry and it tastes like dirt and then you see that there’s mold on the one below it, but Paul thought maybe it was spiced to taste like that. Hmm.

The real attraction to this place, I assume, is the ambiance and entertainment. And it WAS entertaining. There was a smarmy MC musician guy with his lecherous drumming cohort, and then a belly dancer. The whole thing had a very Vegas lounge lizard feel to it. They made a bunch of people in the audience get up and dance, like one at a time, and do a bunch of embarrassing shit. I flatly refused. It was like a train wreck, and just got more and more horrifying, watching all the middle aged accountants with their party of coworkers getting "crazy." But still funny. I have to think if there’s anyone I hate enough to take them to this place and make them get on stage.

After the show, the disco ball effect over the curtain draped walls and ceiling, along with the droopy techno reminded me of being in a come-down tent at Burning Man. Don't get me wrong, all of this was an experience not to be missed. I never have to wonder about Pasha again. And I won't ever get the image of the fat Indian guy with a giant mustache and a cheap sportcoat dancing in a fez.

After like $32 of pomegranate (and supposedly vodka) drinks, we were still sober (the drinks sucked as much as the food), and finished up and headed to Drunken Monkey, where we listened to bad music while I slurped down a real drink, before going home.

I love riding on the back when I’m drunk.

Paul makes everything better.

I never wanted to be one of those people who loses touch with their friends when they are in a relationship, but despite my best trying, it’s starting to look like that. At least I know it’s not my fault. I tried. I have always fought change tooth-and-nail, but it’s the way of life, and I ought to learn to be more accepting of that. Anyway, my mom always told me that adults don’t really have friends. It makes me unbearably sad, but I’m only going to allow sadness a few more days before I throw it out the door too and plunge into the next thing.

I am getting the hell out of town this weekend. Somewhere. Anywhere. Any suggestions?

ummm. OK.

Yamaha FJR1300 You scored 0 moxie, 6 zeal, and -3 pomp!

You have the characteristics of a master street rider. On the way to work, your love for riding sometimes leads you to take the long way. The 50-miles-of-back-roads long way. You live for the perfect road, and plan vacations around riding. You need a bike that can handle your addiction to the twisties as well as comfortably carry two on a weekend trip through the mountains. Your bike is the FJR1300. Can I borrow it someday?

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 9% on moxie You scored higher than 74% on zeal You scored higher than 3% on pomp

Link: The Motorcycle Personality Test written by iocaine on OkCupid Free Online Dating

Girls' Weekend

It’s always sad to see people drifting in and out of your life. Sure, you meant to be close forever, but that rarely works out in the long term. Did you drag it on painfully, or just peter out? Did you upset each other? Get tired of each other? Just stop having time? Who knows, and why belabor the point? At some point, you give up, and chug ahead.

On the other hand, if I’d never been blessed with anything else in life, I’d be the luckiest girl in the world on account of my family. My parents and siblings and grandparents are wonderful people that I admire, respect, enjoy, and most importantly, love dearly. I miss them when I don’t see them. When I need to make changes, I seek their advice. I can’t remember any fighting in my adult life. There’s no drama, no manipulation, no favorite, no wondering what’s really going on underneath.
Also, we drink a lot of wine and eat a lot of cheese and chocolate.

This weekend was Girls’ Weekend, a tradition my mom started many years ago, which involves the three of us (my mom, my sister, and myself, and NOW, my brother’s wife!) going for a weekend together, usually at a B&B within a couple of hours from here. Occasionally, we go somewhere more distant, like the year we went to the LA County Museum of Art to see the Van Gogh exhibit, or to Chicago to spend a few days in museums. This year was fairly low-key, just a quiet weekend in Half Moon Bay, chatting, knitting, drinking, poking around bookstores…

After all these years, my dad countered with a Boys’ Weekend, and invited Paul to spend the weekend with him and my brother in Sutter Creek at a Ragtime festival. Paul gamely accepted. I think they had at least a little fun, since they went wine tasting.

I spent a good part of my day trying to book the ferry to Isle of Man for next year’s TT. I still don’t know how it works, only that I am supposed to get some information in January, where they confirm my time and fare. I think it sounds overly complicated and kind of like I’m getting screwed, but this is the only way (besides flying, which is out of the question) I still have not found anyone who can actually offer useful advice about travelling to Isle of Man.

And now, Paul and I are starting Mandarin classes this Thursday evening. I’m going to Vegas next weekend for work, though I’ve just found out that my dates are all screwed up. This coming weekend is pretty empty. I’d like to see my sister.

Time is on my side

Got this from a few of my friends...

20 years ago I...
1. Was 7.
2. Was changing schools and having no friends, again.
3. Was a Girl Scout
4. Thought I wanted to be a waitress when I grew up.


10 years ago I...
1. Was living in San Francisco, in my own apartment, at 17.
2. Spent most of my hours at school or doing homework
3. Thought I wanted to be a costume designer
4. Wore short skirts, big boots, striped tights, and spikes, almost exclusively.


5 years ago I...
1. Was working at my first full-time job in the apparel industry, at 22, which I was really enjoying at that time.
2. Was trying to get my first motorcycle back up and running, as I’d only just gotten it before it crapped out.
3. Was clubbing and socializing and sewing, a lot.
4. Could drink you under the table.


3 years ago I...
1. Was desperately trying to find a new job at 24 since a monstrous woman had been allowed to take over my department and run the company morale into the ground.
2. Was killing time with a not-especially-engaging ex.
3. Was riding motorcycles frequently, and spending lots of time with wonderful friends (Charles!) because of that.
4. Was working on buying my first NEW motorcycle.


1 year ago I...
1. Was working hard at the job that made me feel like an actual career-type-professional person, at 26.
2. Was falling madly for Paul
3. Was nursing the wounds from a pointless SV650 crash, after having ridden the damn thing to Seattle and back by myself with no problems.
4. Was going to my first trade show in Vegas for work.


So far this year I...
1. Have gotten a promotion at said job.
2. Have done my first endurance rally (1000 miles in 24 hours)
3. Have made plans and movements to pay down my student loans, and make future financial goals and framework
4. Have been to Italy and Beijing



Yesterday I...
1. Got my credit report, requested an account number change to help avoid identity theft, and saved $400 on insurance by dropping collision.
2. petted the cats
3. Baked cookies (not very successfully)
4. Missed Charles


Today I...
1. Spent an hour on the phone with the idiots at customer service for polo.com (It’s a work thing.)
2. Split the bridge and 101 traffic on a nice sunny day on my SV, with new dirtbike bar setup.
3. Am falling madly for Paul
4. Will go to the Asian Art Museum.


Tomorrow I will...
1. Show up late to work, glad for the Friday
2. Make some sort of complaint about what’s going on or not going on for my birthday.
3. Ride to San Jose with Paul, to hang out with my family all weekend. (me with my mom, sister, and sister-in-law, him with my dad and brother)
4. Drink beer, or wine, or possibly cocktails, and give my sister hugs.


In the next year I will...
1. Pay down my student loans on schedule, and get a new computer
2. Go see the Isle of Man TT races
3. Fall madly for Paul, and consolidate our lives a little to make space for things we want to do.
4. Pet cats and sit in hammocks and drink cocktails with friends

a joke my mom sent me a long time ago.

A squad of Marines drove up the highway between Basra and Baghdad.
They came upon an Iraqi soldier badly injured and unconscious. Nearby, on the opposite side of the road was an American soldier in a similar state, but he was alert.

As first aid was given to both soldiers, they asked the Marine what had happened.

The Marine responded, "I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway. Coming south was a heavily armed Iraqi soldier".

"What happened then?" the corpsman asked.

"I told him that Saddam Hussein was a miserable piece of crap. Then the Iraqi told me that George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and Tom DeLay were miserable pieces of crap."


"We were shaking hands when the truck hit us."

Packing Light

This weekend I made a big leap. Nothing is different now. But it was a big leap, a question, hard to say, but it came spewing out, in a moment, almost of its own accord.

I have a fairly stable life, and there are things that have been unchanging for over ten years. But now I’ve come to a point where I’m looking to make a big change. They always said you would “just know,” but it was very hard to believe. And then, one day, there it was, in front of me. Leaning on a car, looking very sexy, I might add.

So in the next six months or so, I’ll be making a change. But the last year or so had been a big change too. It’s not drastic feeling; it’s revolutionary but comfortable and wonderful. I’ve never been in the position to consider giving up my apartment before. If you’ve ever had rent control in SF, you know how serious this is.

I’ve lived in my apartment for over ten years now. Once it seemed very big, but then I acquired all this crap. It’s still a great apartment. It’s so central to everything. Saturday, Paul and I walked down to the Yerba Buena and saw the Maori exhibit there (very cool; it was mostly contemporary stuff) and then on the way back, ran into Chinese dragon dancing and kids doing martial arts/dance in Union Square. Tell me, in the suburbs, do you ever have that? When was the last time you “wandered” out and happened upon Maori people in loin cloths and then Chinese kids in dragon get-ups? Other days, we’ve had impromptu and slightly drunk architectural tours and stunning views of the Bay Area from some of the hotels here. I’m in an Irish bar, an hour from now, I’ll be in a tiki bar, then pop over to the Folk Art Museum on the way home. Watch out for the drag queens, some of them are really buffed and agro.

But I won’t live there forever.

I’m already pretty adept at packing light. I carried my all my luggage in Italy, as well as my mother’s, frequently. A weekend away on a bike means a small backpack, not a trunk full of shit. When I arrive in New York for the sales meeting, there’s usually, a “where are the REST of your bags?” No, this is it. I don’t have cable or TiVo. I don’t need a brand new cellphone. What I need is the friends I’ve kept, my bikes, and maybe some pie.

Now it’s time to look at the crap that has accumulated in my life, and toss it away. Make room for what’s next. Pack light, and your options stay open.

The quickest way to put a girl in tears

Sometimes I have to go shopping for work. It’s a bit tricky, but I’ve got a bit of a routine, which works in department stores. I work for a menswear manufacturer, so I grab a bunch of women’s clothes too and duck into the dressing rooms to look at stuff a little closer, take notes, measure, or whatever. It’s a pain, and sometimes very awkward. And sometimes I end up with clothes for myself, which is bad. I don’t shop all that often for clothes. Clothes are overpriced, and I’d rather spend the money on motorcycles, mostly.

So that’s what I did Friday, left early to survey boys’ shorts, and ended up with some jeans for myself which I will probably take back since they aren’t perfect.

I’ve never bought anything at the GAP before. But I’ve been on the lookout for jeans for a while, and when I walked in to do work shopping, I saw that they were offering new fits. That’s great, since most stuff doesn’t fit me right.

Observations I have to make about jeans:
1.) Low Rise. Nobody likes High Rise, but Low Rise shouldn’t be very. Low, I mean. A couple years ago, I was in Express, and they were selling jeans with a 4 1/8” rise. OK, that’s pretty scandalous, right? Well, I know a few girls that could pull it off. But these jeans should not even be cut in sizes above 4 or maybe 6. Certainly this shouldn’t be mass marketed. When the Gap guy asked me how I felt about low rise, I was like, “how would you feel about selling me low rise? Would you feel like you’d done the world a disservice?” That was what I thought, I said “no, that wouldn’t look good on me.” Perhaps these sales people ought not ask girls what they want, they ought to say “You, ma’am, can have a low rise jean. YOU, can not.” And then, “I see that you are getting a low-ish rise jean. May I suggest that you actually buy the correct size? You know, instead of the one in your hand that is too small and will cause a fat-awning to lower over your ugly-ass belt. Just trying to help, and beautify the city.” Modern Day Heroes, they could be.

2.) Men’s pants come in inseam lengths by number of inches. Women are generally just stuck with one length for all. Sucks for jeans, which never look right when you hem them, on account of the wash. So, it was exciting to see Gap had different lengths. Funny, really, because I saw Long, and Regular. I asked the guy to help me find Short. “Oh, would you like Ankle?” he says. I look confused, and ask him, what is “Ankle?” “Ankle hits around the ankle.” WHAT does this mean? Am I to believe that Gap has formulated magic pants that grow or shorten depending on the height of the wearer? I’ve always wanted Magic Pants! The excitement was almost too much to bear. Call it what it is, dumbasses.

3.) I’m a very average woman. I’m about 5’6” or 5’5”, probably depending on how much slouching I’ve been doing at work lately. Actually, I’ve just learned that makes me taller than average. So here’s the thing: Short length, when offered, is usually just a touch long on me. Or in the case of the Gap jeans, just plain too long. I’d understand this if I were actually short, and trying to buy “Regular.” Hello, manufacturers: don’t bother with the lengths if you can’t get it right.

4.) Wash: I like that there are new options in wash, but I don’t like that most of them are crap. So here are a few ground rules:
a. “Whiskers”- no. This is fucking stupid. Say it outloud and ask yourself if it sounds good: “Crotch Whiskers.”
b. Pre-worn look washes. I see you are lightening the thigh area to give it a worn look. That’s OK in moderation, but when it looks like it’s been bleached, it also looks like you’ve just sat in something. No.
c. Holes- Holes. In new jeans. Stupid. So. Stupid. I want a discount.

5.) Flare: bad. Looks bad. Short and fat and bad. Unless maybe you are super skinny and tall, and then you just look like you have no style.

6.) Pockets: Yes, they are women’s clothes. But they are jeans, which means I intend to live in them. Give me some fucking pockets, and make them full-sized, jackass. It is not a prom dress. I do not have some sucker to follow me around carrying my stuff. Wait, maybe I do, but nevermind that. (To be fair, this wasn’t a problem with the Gap jeans. Rampage is a repeat offender here.)

This has been a public service announcement.

Survey says:

Another Survey. This one from Keith.

1. If you could trade places with one of your friends for a day, who would it be?
For one day? I’d like to give them all a try. But if I had to choose…
Maybe Steve. He’s bonkers and a genius, I’d like to see the world through his eyes for a day. Plus, I could, like piss out fires and stuff.

2. What were you doing at this time yesterday?
Working.

3. What will you be doing at this time tomorrow?
I hope sleeping.

4. In the past month, what was the best moment you had?
I’ve had a lot of moments:
Getting drunk and looking at fishies and penguins would be one.
Getting good and drunk at Zeitgeist with Paul and Mark and etc. was another.
Dinner with Paul for his birthday
The bendy-straw time at Charles’ birthday party.
But the BEST, was probably napping in the grass at Laguna Seca

5. When was the last time you were at a hospital?
When Dale dumped Joan’s BMW on a gravel road, and we waited in the emergency room for him to be seen. That was fun. Then we had martinis or something all night.
The last time I was in for ME, was a few years ago, when I discovered that codeine and me are un-mixy things.

6. What kind of car do you have?
Um. That’s the thing with the extra wheels and the giant waste of space, right? I have a few Hot Wheels. I have one that’s a little toilet car. That one’s real cute.

7. When was the last time you were taken advantage of?
Every time I pay my taxes, or get a speeding ticket. I feel pretty taken advantage of when my work makes me give up my weekend to travel too.

8. What do you take for granted?
That my parents will always be there to take care of me if I fail. Fortunately, I don’t use that. But I think it’s there.

9. What is the best thing about your job?
Travel.

10. How many times have you been rejected?
For, like, anything? I have no idea. Job searching, ex-boyfriends, schools, I don’t keep track of all that. I am happy where I am. I’ve been dumped a few times, my resumes have been ignored many times, and the Jesuits have never wanted me at their schools. Fuck the Jesuits.

11. Think of the last time you went out with friends. What was the best part of it?
Zeitgeist. Seeing Paul do his happy dance. Seeing a lot of people I rarely see. Beer.

12. What was the last movie you watched?
The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover. Peter Greenaway. Seen it a few times, love it every time. In the theater: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

(what happened to 13?)

14. In the near future, what are you most looking forward to?
Not going to work tomorrow. Gee, my life has really slowed down. Next big event is Vegas in November.

15. What do you dislike about your bedroom?
It’s a fucking pigsty. So, I guess I just wish it were, like four times as big, and had a garage attached to it.

16. Describe your morning routine.
No routine. It may involve toast and coffee, may involve stretching or doing core exercise, may involve catching up on email. Shower, toothbrush, etc of course. Then I try to beat my time for getting to work, if I’m running late. Sometimes I arrive at work and don’t remember the commute at all. Other times, I’m wide awake and lanesplitting.

17. What is one food you have never and will never try?
Seahorse. How sad.

18. How would you handle it if someone liked you but you weren't into them?
Get over it and move on. Like that’s never happened before. Fortunately, I’ve tricked the only one I want into wanting me back.

19. What was the last thing that got on your nerves?
Traffic light sensors.

20. What would your theme song be?
That’s a big commitment. Right now, it would be “Borrowed Time” by MDC. Or maybe “Motorbike,” which is mostly meaningless, by Sheep on Drugs.

21. Can people tell when you're upset?
Yes. I throw things, or get very quiet, acerbic, and decisive.

22. How much money did you spend yesterday?
Actual cashflow was zero. I suppose you could figure out a daily cost for rent, gas, insurance, depretiation of bikes, etc. But, I was drinking, and do not care.

23. Would you rather go to the doctor or the dentist?
I have no aversion to either. I miss my old doctor though.

24. Tattoos are?
Frequently just a different type of uniform. Worship your subculture!

25. How long would you have to date someone before you slept with them?
I don’t remember. I’m done with that.

26. Do you practice any form of religion?
No. I was raised Catholic, but I gave that up for Lent many years ago.

27. What is a special talent you have that most people don't know about?
Sometimes I can make weird noises with my eyeball. That really freaked Paul out I think.

28. Growing up, who did you have posters on the wall?
Iron Maiden! Oh yeah!

29. What is your favorite thing about summer?
I LOVE San Francisco on those very few warm summer nights we get. I also love watching the fog roll in, and not having to carry rain gear.

30. What do you think of the person who posted this survey before you?
Keith is nice; probably too nice. He needs to fix that damn dirtbike or stop talking about it.

13 minutes!

So Paul and I went to a place called Medjool on Monday. It was for Paul’s birthday, and he didn’t want a party. Well, actually, we had a HUGE party, and we just didn’t invite YOU.

Medjool has a wonderful rooftop bar, with a really nice view of SF. I recommend the rooftop bar.

The restaurant is a nice space, but I thought the food was a little lacking. My first complaint was that they told us it was a “tapas” restaurant. OK, “tapas” is Spanish. This was a Mediterranean restaurant. I understand “tapas” are more trendy, but it seems insulting that they wouldn’t just call it what it is--“mezas.” I don’t call burritos “sandwiches” or pad thai “pasta.” Asparagus was great, and the vegetable and goat cheese pastry was good. Hummus was so-so, and that’s my test for any Mediterranean restaurant. Nice dining experience, food is so-so. Love the chandelier. Overall: a nice place, good for rooftop drinks, perhaps a nibble and dessert in the restaurant.

We watched Outfoxed on Saturday. This movie is interesting to me because I don’t have cable, so I’ve never watched Bill O’Reilly or any of these other folks. That part of it was definitely eye-opening; just watching a montage of a supposed news-figure telling loads of “guests” to “shut-up” sort of speaks for itself. A few interesting statistics about what FOX-watchers believe (for instance, that something like 80% of them think we’ve found WMD in Iraq!), but then, I know how easy it is to lie with statistics. I would have found the whole thing a lot more believable had it been made with higher production values, some back-up material (I am not interested in what “anonymous” has to say unless you can give me a reasonable fact-check or some proof of his reliability), and oh, perhaps a little balance? It’s a little ridiculous to make a movie, slamming the propaganda of FOX, which feels so very propaganda-like itself. Which sucks, because I pretty much think they are right. I just wish a more professional movie had been made. It kind of makes us look stupid.

Instead, see this:
Control Room
I found this movie really interesting. In particular, watch the out-takes part too. Great movie.

I’m trying to streamline my life and get rid of the shit that’s just left-over from a different me. I’ve finally concluded that I no longer sew. As such, I’m going to get rid of almost all of my fabric. I have a shit-load. Seriously. Together with the rest of the crap I need to unload, it’s totally garage-sale worthy. But I don’t have a garage. I’m too stupid to ebay (I wouldn’t know where to begin with shipping). I need to figure something out here. But, yeah, books, clothes, art supplies, bike parts, fabrics, and some other random shit, need to find new owners. I need the cash, so if I can figure out how to sell it, it’s gone.

I think I’ve finally found my handlebars. We’ll see this weekend. Again. (sigh)

Yesterday I made it to work in 13 minutes. Now tell me how cool your Explorer/Navigator/Yukon/Murano is, bitches!

And now, a photograph that has nothing to do with any of this, just because I am testing the blog photo feature:

This image is an old favorite. This is what happens when you run over a tiny crack in the pavement on an SV650, wearing Alpinestars winter gloves, at low speed. That is my hand just over a year ago.

I know for a fact I’m getting old

Sometimes I think wistfully about the old days of getting dressed up, going out, drinking, maybe dancing. And then occasionally I get off my ass and go drinking, and within twelve hours I know why I stopped. Oh, I was once quite a drinker. I have no idea how many shots I’d do at the bar while nursing a Long Island Iced Tea in the other hand. And then the flask of warm jager or vodka I sometimes carried…

I think I had three drinks on Friday, plus a beer earlier, and felt kind of shitty Saturday. Not an actual hangover, but I got a very late and bumpy start. Ugh. Screw that.

Cat Club Friday was only saved by the fact that the electricity went out and saved us from a couple of hours more of Hanson and Spice Girls and the horrid crowd that had filed into the bar. In the dark, the scary people left and it was just a few of us left to talk in a normal (not yelling) range and catch up by candlelight. Nice, but I still hated losing most of Saturday.

We finally did get our shit together on Saturday and go down to the Apple store downtown. Which was fun, because I’m actually interested in buying a new computer, for the first time in many years. I can’t really afford this, so I’m going el-cheapo. That means the 12” Ibook, almost certainly. I asked a few questions of the various Apple employees and didn’t really like their answers, but whatever. I’m sure they were stupid questions, but that’s what they’re paid for. It’s not my job to know this shit; that’s why they get paid, and I don’t look at them like idiots for not knowing what seam is sewed first in a pair of pants.
Anyway.
I asked about the monitor hook-up capabilities, and the girl told me that of course I could hook it up to a monitor on my desk. Well, actually, she said, only a regular monitor. Not a digital monitor, so not, like, an Apple monitor, she said. Um. I have no idea. But I think it’s kindof dumb that Apple wouldn’t sell a monitor that could be used with this machine. So is Apple stupid, or did the girl not know what she was talking about?

Upstairs, I saw that some of the software being sold listed a PowerMac as a system requirement. I understand that the Ibook isn’t made for, like, video editing, but I am surprised to be led to believe that it can’t run a Rand McNally map software package. Also saw this listed on a few games and things, and my guess (Paul’s guess) was that it would really have more to do with the processor power/size whatever, and that the listings were just lazy or vague. So I asked. “Is there software over there that can’t be run on the Ibook? I see that some of the boxes list PowerMac under system requirements, and I’m just wondering if that’s correct, or if the new Ibooks could handle that stuff.” Besides, like video editing. I was told “It’s listed on all the boxes what each one requires.” No shit. But is it true? I mean, if that’s the case, you’re telling me the Ibook can’t open fucking MAPS? So is Apple stupid, or did the guy not know what he was talking about?

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Apple. I’m brand loyal if for no other reason than habit. I don’t know why I don’t want a PC, I just don’t. I want a Mac. It’s what I’ve always had. I’m just saying, they weren’t being very Rebecca-friendly at the store. I’m an idiot. Please steer me in the right direction. That’s the selling point of the Mac, and the Apple Store, isn’t it? User-friendly, Geek Bar, and all that?

Regardless of all that, I did leave pretty happy and excited about getting an Ibook (eventually. I’m trying to delay my purchase a few months.)

For now, I need to stay away from nights at the Cat Club, since they cost too much in time and money.

I can see into my future: broken computer, lots of ramen noodles

I’ve been talking about wanting to get a new computer since they introduced the Mini Macs a few months ago. Now, I really always figured I’m too poor to buy a new computer, but now that the G3 is about 8 years old, it’s been getting a little more pressing. Last night, I thought the monitor had finally given up the ghost. The screen went wonky and just black with a vertical line in the middle, and a squeaky/screechy noise. I restarted it, and it came up with really crappy resolution, and wouldn’t offer any other resolution options. I turned it off, came back later, and it’s back to normal. It’s been making weird little flashes for a while, but I’m just not ready to see it go.

I suspect I’ll need to replace it soon (yeah, I know it’s already way outdated, but I’m a cheap bastard) but as far as I can tell, that’s gonna cost about $1000. Which I don’t have. Well, I do, but that’s not what it’s for.

Financially, my goal right now is to pay down my student loan, and save up for a trip to Isle of Man. Which is getting towards not-possible, since the time is rolling around, and I still have no frame of reference, no concept of a ballpark on the cost. I’m afraid by the time it becomes clear, it will be too late to put any money into it.

I was going through my papers last night and as far as I can tell, I haven’t paid off any of my student loan. This is shit. So that’s the new focus.


Other goals:

Long Term:
Pay off my student loans- best I can guess is that this might take ten years. That sucks, and I need to find a better way.
Invest a lot more in my 401K—can’t happen until after the loan is gone. That sucks too.
More travel-- Australia sounds interesting, as does Spain, Italy, pretty much anywhere…

Mid-Term:
Isle of Man, Ireland trip-- needs planning, starting with dates, then ferry reservations, hotel/camping reservations, and airline reservations. Transportation in Ireland means finding a bike rental (not easy from what I’m hearing) or learning to drive a car.
Begin learning Mandarin—Paul and I plan to take a city college class this Fall
Christmas—wouldn’t it be nice to actually make instead of buy? Yeah, like that will happen!
More dirt riding!—It’s too hot right now, but it seems like we are close to finally having all the components needed to get our bikes into the dirt. The Sheetiron is non-negotiable. So preparation would be good, when the weather calms down.
Endurocross in Vegas-- Event tickets are already purchased, need to book hotel + air. It's the weekend of November 19th, promises to be a lot of fun, and we'd love more company.

Short-Term:
Clean out the shit in my apartment. Realistically, I do not sew any more. It’s sad, but there’s an entire room in my apartment FULL of fabric. I have been loathe to give up all my old stuff, wishing that were still something I had the time, space, and talent for.
And the old bike parts, and the new ones I can’t use, and some clothes, and some books, and some art supplies. Perhaps I ought to make a list of crap and see if anyone I know wants it.

Finish the SV650 project: the bars are not in yet (“sometime this week”) and I need to order gaiters. The scottoiler ought to go on or away.

More micro-movements on what I think matters—I’m killing the MBNA account, on account of, MBNA is the devil. I’m telling the favorite clothing retailer to shove it until their political contributions either go away, or become more representative of the world I want to live in. I’m thanking my bike insurer for being a big Blue contributer. I’m sending Boxer a note now and then. I want to tell Wells Fargo what I think of their new bullshit security service. (where the customer has to pay to monitor THEIR security fuckups!) What’s next…



I used to have a little quote that my mom had left in my Palm Pilot when she handed it over to me, that said something about “ Long term goals are never realized because they never have top priority.” Something like that. What are you doing to make things happen?

Take this bar and shove it.

The one modification I always said I wanted to make to the SV, from the time I bought it, was dirtbike bars. Maybe, I thought, if there were anything I’d change, it would be that. Well, two crashes later, I’ve bent two pairs of bars (one of which I’ve just been riding with despite the bend, for the past several months) and purchased two different replacement bars which ended up being a waste.

First off, (attempt #1: ProTapers, earlier this year) you can’t just buy bars you like and hack them down to the desired width. There isn’t enough space on the un-bent portion to allow that, and still put the controls on.
Secondly, (attempt #2: Renthals, this past week) you probably can’t put dirtbike bars on at all, even if they are an acceptable width to begin with, because there won’t be enough room for your controls. Dirtbikes have less shit on the bars, and the bars are made for that.

Apparently, there are a few bars (since ProTaper and Renthal each make about a million different styles of dirtbike bars) that may work, because there were a lot of people telling me that it was easy, just go buy some dirtbike bars you like, and throw them on. Not that easy!

Got really pissed off about this on Saturday, after realizing that I’d thrown more money away on this fucking project. How did everyone else do it so easily?

Found a cool shop in SF, that has Renthal streetfighter bars. These ought to fit, since theoretically, they are purpose made for streetbikes with streetbike controls. And if I need longer cables, they can help me with that, too. They will get a new shipment of bars this Tuesday, and I will try it out. If it does not work, it’s back to the bent bars, permanently, $300 later, and with nothing to show.

Then barkbusters (already have them, so I hope this works) and gaiters (not purchased yet), and it will be just as I want it. Then someone will steal it. Yay.

All We Need is Eight Tiny Reindeer

Last night I slept very lightly. Every little noise had me waking up and waiting, silently, for the cat door to open. Nothing. What a disappointment. I was promised a visit by a raccoon, and NOTHING.

Berkeley is some sort of wild animal park. These are the characters from this weekend:
1.) Fang. A really loud, fat, cranky, one-eyed cat.
2.) Squeeky. The big stupid boy kitty that lives downstairs. Will put up with any manner of ill treatment for attention.
3.) Fluffy. The little girl kitty downstairs. Scared of her own shadow.
4.) Possum. Ran into the open garage just as we were finished with the downstairs cats. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought it was a giant rat. Just moments earlier, and we could have kept it out of the garage. Possums are really really dumb, but I think they are cute.
5.) Lurking raccoon. In the bushes a few blocks from Paul’s house. Very interactive and curious, but I did eventually scare it off.
6.) Another possum. In the flowers at the house around the corner.
7.) The slutty cat. Lives around the corner, is ridiculously friendly. Threateningly so, almost. She jumps up on you and spastically vies for attention. Also a brawler, when the 3 ½ legged next-door cat comes out.
8.) Mr. Peepers. The diabolical raccoon, who has figured out to break into houses.

No squirrels this weekend, didn’t see the hawk that’s frequently sitting on the telephone poles pooping and squeeking. (I’m just glad the hawk hasn’t been breaking in. The pooping on my bikes is enough trouble.)

So every so often, Paul (and sometimes with me) will come home and find a mess left behind by Mr. Peepers. Cat food, gone. Water, gone, but half splashed out on the floor (Mr. Peepers likes to wash his hands) Muddy raccoon prints everywhere. All over the kitchen, even a few on the refrigerator, and one time, even on the bed. (cute.) Downstairs at the other cats’ food area: same story. It’s funny (like when we could see that the cat had fallen into the toilet because Mr. Peepers trashed her water) and impressive (this raccoon is really smart, to have figured all this out), but it needs to STOP. Mr. Peepers, if you’re reading this, PLEASE stop. Getting hit with a beer bottle a few times didn’t seem to deter him.

I desperately wanted to see this in action, but he’s never come by when I was there. I felt like a kid at Christams, waiting for the noises at the chimney, or cat door, or whatever. Oh, I know, Mr. Peepers can't come unless you're all tucked into bed sleeping, but I get so excited.

I have seen the aftermath, and it’s quite hilarious. But it needs to stop, because the cats could get hurt. Mr. Peepers must be getting awfully big from all the cat food, after all.

Indian Tiki Penguin Goodness

This weekend was pretty great. Friday we wandered around drinking. I finally saw the Starlight Room, but did not go inside (pay? To hang out with those guidos? Uh-uh) And I guess there were other bars and things.

Saturday was totally productive. We went bike-stuff shopping, got a lot of shit we needed, and then went back and changed the oil on four bikes. (All the running bikes. Done) Then started drinking again. There’s a kick-ass Indian place in Berkeley near the Lanesplitter, called Priya. I cannot get enough of this place. One time I saw a cockroach on the wall next to our table, which Paul was nice enough to brush away so I didn’t have to look at it while I was eating. I HATE cockroaches, but I’m not stupid. I know they are everywhere, this restaurant included. I keep eating there. It is SO GOOD. I crave it while I’m at work.

Saturday got better and better, as on the way home, we found the Templebar OPEN. OPEN. We’ve been trying to go back to this place for about a year, and it’s never open. Sometimes the lights are on, but then you get all excited only to find out that the doors are locked. Evil evil shit. Because this is THE coolest bar ever. Tiki at it’s finest. Not in a kitschy way, at least not too purposefully. Not hipster and kitsch. An honest-to-goodness Hawaiian outpost of tiki. The first time we were in, there was a tiki band (with ukes and singing and all that) and the place was fairly crowded. And the people were having a great time and even singing along and dancing in the aisle. Seriously. The bar is a beautiful giant wood thing, and the staff is like three generations of Hawaiian family, from the old guy with the white pompadour to the young lady making the drinks. The drinks? Fabulous blended rummy things with cherries and umbrellas, some in tiki mugs, some not, for CHEAP. I cannot say enough about this place, except that it is NEVER open. So the guy tells me they’re open only Friday and Saturday 5:30-9. (It’s also a restaurant) But they also open at 3 on the first Sunday of the month for some Hawaiian open mic/band/drink festival. They won’t be there for August because there’s a festival in SF that day (at which his band is performing) but, omigod, I really want to go in September.

Then a walk and a drink at Spengers, which is kind of smelly and the bartender has silly facial hair.

Sunday was lazy and involved hiking around downtown SF drinking and stuff.

Monday I went and saw Eyeknife at the Elbo Room. It was great!

Last night we went to Third Thursday at the Academy of Sciences. The chocolate exhibit was so-so, but I had a great time getting drunk and looking at penguins and geckos.

This weekend I hope to get some more bike stuff done, drink some more, and cry a lot about Mark leaving Scuderia. Scuderia is one of the best shops in the City, but I am really going to miss having Mark there to entertain me and help me with my stupid bike shit.

Silence is Golden, but watching movies in your underwear at home is even better

Last night we went and saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
I wanted to not want to see this movie, because I hate going to theaters these days.
Somehow, this seems to puzzle Hollywood: why don’t people want to go to the movies anymore?

1.) It’s too goddam expensive. $10 per ticket. That’s WAY too much, particularly considering #2
2.) You show me ads for like 15 minutes. When did this become OK? I’m not talking about movie trailers, that’s part of the fun of seeing movies in the theater. I’m talking about ads for cars, cellphones, financial services, soda, and the all-time worst: military recruitment. Excuse me? I just paid $10. So that should cover my not having to watch a fucking advertisement. Last I checked, advertisements were a way to subsidize entertainment to make it FREE (see: Television.) So you’re telling me that I ought to pay through the nose to watch commercials? No.
3.) Military advertisements get their own #. If you want to show me this garbage, show me an ad for the Peace Corps also. Or show me pictures of all the dead people our army made, or perhaps a montage of “where are they now” about veterans. Military ads are the worst of pathetic marketing aimed at stupid people. There may be good reason to join the military, but seeing a sensationalized ad in a movie theater is not one of them.
4.) People. This is really the main reason we’d all prefer to stay home, but unfortunately, it’s the one reason that Hollywood can’t easily address. Last night’s audience wasn’t bad, despite it being a little crowded for my tastes. (and despite the fact that the guy sitting next to me jabbed me in the ribs.) But talking, cellphones, people laughing too long and too loud, weird smelly food shit, people climbing in and out during the movie, and the jackass with the plastic bag he keeps rumpling, are the main reasons we don’t want to be in the theater.
5.) The movies mostly suck. By attempting to appeal to everyone, you’ve just bored everyone. I never saw the last two star wars movies, mainly because I didn’t want to pay $10 to sit through 2 hours of special effects and formulaic plotlines. I may be wrong; probably one day I’ll find out, through Netflix. I like a movie where everyone dies in the end. I want to be surprised and occasionally have to think. I want to see some talented art direction, set design, and costuming, I want to feel like I got something personal from the creators. I want to hot chicks and explosions too sometimes, but that’s not enough.

Charlie and the Chocolate factory was great. I don’t really like the remake-everything movement that’s going on in Hollywood right now, and I understand the resistance to this one in particular, being that the first was such a classic and all. But, the reason I wanted to see this after all, was, I suspected that this is the movie Tim Burton was born to make. I love Burton and he has hits and misses. This one is definitely a hit for him. I laughed. I did not cry, which is one of my pre-reqs for a *great* movie. Sappy and predictable, well, I mean, yeah, it IS Charlie and the Chocolate factory. But the musical numbers were OH-so-cool!

Chainsaw murders and gettin' it on

Newsflash: There’s offensive content on the Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas disc.

“The Parents Television Council, another group that monitors sex and violence in the media, said it was pleased with the rating switch but called on Rockstar to voluntarily recall the game and offer refunds to anyone who purchased it.”

This is utterly fucking ridiculous. This game is nothing BUT offensive. I have it and love it.

The premise of this game is based on killing people and taking their money, picking up on girls, stealing cars, going to strip clubs, etc. That is all fine, but SEX? We just can’t handle that. If anything ought to offend us, shouldn’t it be all the violence? Sex is, after all, a completely natural thing, and it is the very thing that created these children we are somehow protecting. By allowing them to waste gang members and cops, with guns and chainsaws, but not allowing them to see sex.

I can’t see how these people could say this with a straight face. If anyone wants a refund because they’ve found out there’s sex in the game, these people oughtn’t to have the game in the first place. They certainly oughtn’t to have children. Anyone returning this game should return their kids too, because they clearly are shitty parents.

This ISN’T a game for children. If you are worried that your kid might see people getting it on, perhaps you ought to worry that your kid just killed a cop with a chainsaw, then went on a shooting rampage with a stolen motorcycle.

Go fuck yourselves, Parents Television Council. Go learn to parent, rather than blaming the entertainment industry for your shoddy parenting skills.

Apartment-dwelling Musicians, suck my dick

Practicing scales on your guitar (or whatever) at 7 AM?!?!?!!?!?!?!

DIE DIE DIE

A song I sometimes sing in my helmet

Posting song lyrics is oh-so lame, perhaps, but sometimes I need to be reminded. Maybe you do too.

Borrowed Time(Dictor- MDC)

You learn a lot in this life
And a bunch you never need to know
Now you're late for a destination
That you didn't choose to go
Walk, run, skip, or fly
Just to hurry up and wait
You can worry if you want to
But it's all sealed in the hands of fate

Broken dreams, I'm living on borrowed time
And I don't want to see it all just slide away
Yes, I could be losing pieces of my mind
But I'm playing it hard 'til my last day

Deal me in another hand
See what the cards say today
Stay in the game until the last draw
Nowhere to go anyway
Learn your lessons well my friends
Live every day like it's your last
We could build a future together
But we can't change the past

Broken dreams, I'm living on borrowed time
And I don't want to see it all just slide away
Yes, I could be losing pieces of my mind
But I'm playing it hard 'til my last day

Just remember this my friends
It ain't the years, it's the miles
There'll be many difficult hurdles
Tribulations and their trials
Smell the flowers, listen to the wind
Don't just take up space
Sometimes you don't see me smiling
But I really do love this place

Broken dreams, I'm living on borrowed time
And I don't want to see it all just slide away
Yes, I could be losing pieces of my mind
But I'm playing it hard 'til my last day

It's a pretty safe bet

that I don't want to talk to the people that call me at 5:22.

Keep trying, buddy; one day, I totally will refinance the mortgage on this place.

Let's try this again

I just applied for City College, and OMIGOD, I was ACCEPTED!!!!!!
Holy shit!

I got in!

I got in!

The honor!

OK, last time I registered and started to take a class there in Spring '04. The class was motorcycle mechanic-ing or whatever. It wasn't great, but I had hoped to bring the EX in and tear it apart and rebuild, and learn a lot in the process. Instead, I got hit by a car on the way to work, totalled the bike, and ended up working on some girl's Harley. Now, the girl was cool, but the bike totally wasn't. For example: in order to bleed the brakes, you would have to remove the exhaust pipe. Ummmmm, no fucking way! Probably the most important thing I learned from that class was that there's no way in hell I'll ever own one of those monstrosities. Anyway, getting hit by a car turned out to be very time consuming and I ended up dropping out of the class. (how many times could I show up and have work put on hold because the parts were the wrong kind of shiny anyway? I never even knew the difference between all the different chrome-y and billet-y finishes. I miss those naive days)

Anywhooooo...
I'm hoping to learn some Mandarin this time. Conversational, not the the grammar and writing class. Chinese scares me. You cannot fake your way through Chinese like you can Italian, French, or even a little German. Good stuff. I'm very excited about this, and a little scared. A little bit of language can be a bad thing. Better to keep your mouth shut when tone/accent can mean the difference between mother and horse. I've read that because of incorrect tone, foreign diplomats are often referring to themselves as "rubber U-bend pipes" in Mandarin. I can't wait for the confused looks from Chinese people. Possibly followed by a punch in the face, or something.

Yay!

I think they were racing motorcycles, or something

Saturday started way to goddam early. I was out all night with a work dinner/drinks thing, and then had to get up at 5am Saturday, to get an early start to go to Laguna Seca. The coffee house was closed. Grrrrrr…
We made pretty good time actually getting to Laguna Seca, but once we got to the gate turn-off, it was an hour to actually get inside. Why? Even at 8:30 am, Laguna Seca is totally ill-equipped to handle crowds. WTF? I can’t stand this shit. Open another fucking gate. This track brings more money to your local community than anything else. Open the fucking gates. Annoying, really really annoying. I am glad we only went one day, because I couldn’t stand to do that again Sunday. Finally parked the bikes in the dirt (grass) parking lot and made a bee line for a bar. This was actually quite wonderful. None of that usual fair-food $6 foamy Budweiser crap, no, we found a little local brewery bar setup with tables and chairs in the shade and a nice healthy breakfast stout. We were drinking by 9:30 and surly by 10. Yay!

Puttered around some of the booths, stopped to watch some practices and qualifiers, took pictures, and yelled at the Kawasaki people. Watched a little motocross, the Honda folks started up a little vintage racer (very cute), checked out the new Aprilia twin dirtbike and an old BMW sidecar. Good stuff. Go karts were sooooo cute, like little toys, you just wanted to pick them up and put them into your pocket. Ran into a bunch of people we knew, napped in the grass, drank more and ate funnel cake. Good day.
Stopped in Santa Cruz for dinner and crashed out in San Jose.

My mom’s dog pees whenever I come over. Without fail. She can’t help it.

Sunday, we rushed out to meet people for a ride leaving Blue Rock Shoot in Saratoga at 9:30. No one else showed, which I guess was a blessing since we could fuck off and take our time. It was a perfect day for a ride. Not very many bikes out (thankfully) and nice weather. I am a sucky rider these days, so it was slow.

I totally behaved myself on 9 and 35, and I hope I can just keep it that way, because the cops are everywhere on those two roads. I remember just about a year ago, coming through that stretch between Four Corners and Boulder Creek with a lot of 80 and 90 on my speedo. There have always been a few corners that slowed me down, but, now, it’s every corner. Some of that is me behaving, and some of that is because I’m on the SV instead of the much quicker DRZ, and a MOST of that is a much lower skill and confidence level. But there’s something else.

Just over a year ago, I was taking a lot more time riding, and I was riding a lot harder. My life had been pretty much riding, working, riding, going to the gym, riding, sometimes seeing my friends. Different attitudes about what I was focusing on, and a lot of less happy Rebecca, was pushing me though those corners. I was running and I knew it. I’m a happy person in general, but I know, and I even knew then, that I was trying to outrun my own shadow. Embarrassing guys on fancy sportbikes was at times a way to make up for my loneliness and annoyance at pathetic friendship and relationship possibilities. Fuck putting up with dating, I could just cut right to the good stuff at leaving them behind. Particularly if they told me I couldn’t keep up before we left. (note: the faster riders never say they are fast. They don’t talk, and they probably don’t have very “nice” bikes. That old guy on the clapped out mid-eighties dirtbike will wave at you while he takes you on the inside, on knobbies.) The cockier the guy, the faster I went. If pushed, I would push back. I wanted it.
The DRZ was getting pushed. With 3/8” unscrubbed on the edges of the front tire, it wasn’t like I was going anywhere but down, if I kept pushing it harder. I wouldn’t claim skill as much as bitterness, and mostly, though, just a lack of anything better to do or focus on. A better rider wouldn’t have shown that sort of wear.

I wasn’t ever the fastest rider. Never as quick as Charles, except maybe when he was doing chemo. I wouldn’t ever hope to keep an eye on Joanne’s tail light. But, yeah, I was moving. Was I moving well? I don’t know, but quickly, especially on empty days.

Well, now, what happened:
1.) I crashed hard, and didn’t ride hard for a few months. Then never started riding hard again. I lost my confidence, and never went to find it again. Never knowing why I crashed meant it was out of my control. Nothing to learn from that, except that for no goddam reason, you could end up flopping down the pavement leaving bits of finger. When you know what happened, you can make adjustments, and feel like it’s still ok to move forward-- problem is solved, won’t let it happen again. I dropped my bike last week and I know why, and will pay more attention to the shifting on the SV. But there wasn’t any reason why I ended up on the road last July. What could I do to restore my faith?

2.) I do not spend every weekend day riding around in the hills anymore. I just don’t have the time. There are a lot of things to do now. Paul and I have adventures every weekend that sometimes involve riding in the hills but more often do not. I need to ride constantly to improve, as I am a very slow learner, and my learning curve is very steep.

3.) I am incredibly happy. There’s no bitterness, the chip on my shoulder is mostly gone, and I don’t have people around me who would tell me that I have to ride with the girls based on nothing but seeing me and my bike, without riding with me first. I don’t have an empty spot or anything to prove. If it needed to be proved, I already did, and now that’s the past. There’s a bit of fear put back into me, because now I DO have something to lose, and there IS something to come home to. My life is GOOD. It’s not like I was ever the most fearless person, but, I can admit, I wasn’t at my personal best emotionally and that showed, to me, at least. When I was younger and bike-less, it would have manifest as heavy drinking and staying out and all that. Times are different, but I can see the same things underneath.


I’ve been thinking about this a lot because I am a lot slower now, and it’s been a source of frustration. Not just slower, just way, WAY less happy and comfortable on the bike. Used to be, I was more comfortable riding than walking, but I’d gotten to the point (particularly on the SV) where I was terrified to go around corners.

Well, point #3 isn’t something I’d change for the world, and point #2 can only be a matter of the compromises of time and choosing activities, but #1, that I could address. So I did.

The SV feels way better than it did two months ago. New tires made a big difference, and the suspension, it feels better now that it’s been to Aftershocks. I notice in particular the rear shock is much improved, and I assume the front is better too. (I’m no suspension expert, not by a long shot. I can’t even figure out what it’s supposed to be doing) It stays a little more stable when it goes over bumps. It’s no DRZ, but it will have to do. The bumps are still there, but I think the bike gets less shitty when it goes over them. You still feel it, but it doesn’t seem so crash prone. And the tires are WAY better. They actually stick to the ground instead of just kind of gliding over it. Imagine that!

I actually did a little jump when we came back into the city. There’s a really bad pavement seam at the 280/101 split that I usually stand up and slow down to go over, but this time I guess I sort of jumped off of it. Well, that’s what Paul said. I definitely felt it.

Was it worth the pile of money to get a little better suspension? (which is honestly probably wasted on me) Yes. If it makes me feel like I’ve made some change, fixed a problem that made me crash, and can move forward, yes. Even if it’s a placebo that puts my faith back into the bike, it is worth it. I wanted nothing more than to feel happy riding again.

Will I be doing track days to improve my speed? No. No. No. Who fucking cares? I’m willing to let you pass me now, cuz I’m really goddam happy. That may be the standard comparative indicator to a lot of people, about your worth or legitimacy as a motorcyclist, but, um, hello? I’ve ridden by myself to Seattle, I’ve done the Sheetiron, I’ve earned an Ironbutt Saddlesore doing a 24 hour endurance rally. I’ve taken a 400 thumper to Nevada a few times, across desert roads at speeds that made my bike toss, but did not crash. I've kick-, and push-started a clapped out 350 more times than I care to remember. I’ve seen the July snowmelt waterfalls at Mt. Rainier, and nine feet of snow in Sonora pass in June, ridden through mud puddles that would make your gixxer cry, and pulled up with thirty other bikers at 3am in Pismo Beach. I’ve saved my bike from rivers that desperately wanted to swallow it, ridden into LA with no dependable brakes, and gotten my poorly geared bike up same nasty dirt hills. Storms have not stopped me, no matter how bad, and I know where the quiet places are in the Santa Cruz, where I can stop, and hear nothing but birds, and remember that this is the world I want to see on my motorcycles.

Most importantly, I’ve found the one thing I ever really need, and there’s nothing in the world that would make me want to leave him in the dust. Paul is a better rider than I ever was, but even if it weren’t so, I’d still never let him out of my mirror





Comments:
Marisa


That was the sweetest love song I ever read.
Thank you.
Posted by Marisa on Monday, July 11, 2005 at 1:07 PM

Why is he out riding already while I'm still washing my bike?

It has been exactly one year since the last time I washed my motorcycle.

I cleaned a few bugs off the forks before I brought it to Phil, but other than that, no cleaning! Cleaning is bad. It makes you crash. Screw that!

Saturday, and a tally of getting back on the horse

This weekend is MotoGP (or whatever, something with motorcycles, is what I know) at Laguna Seca. Paul and I will be there on Saturday, sniffing the race gas and scratching the tanks on any display models they’ll let us get at. I am hoping for some good mullets and trophy girls.

If you’re going on Saturday, gimmee a call on my cellphone and if it actually works, perhaps we’ll hook up for some cotton candy and beer. Or funnel cakes or mullet hunting. Oh, yeah, there’s motorcycle races too. I’m mostly excited about the go kart racing, because I’ve never seen that before.

I picked up my SV from the shop last night and then promptly dropped it on Page Mill. I fell down with it, and my head landed on Paul's wheel. Nice. Just wish the FZ1 had a nice fluffy fender.

That’s OK, though, because I know exactly why I dropped it, and because Paul was there to help me pick it up again. I think that was the first time I’d ever dropped that bike. Crashed it, yes, but never just dropped it. Well, that’s sort of what happened. Anyway, the SV has been crashed twice, and rear-ended once, and now dropped once. Since I’ve owned it. Previous owners did something, I know because there’s a gouge out of the front rim.

The DRZ has been rear-ended once (didn't topple though), and dropped once on the street and once in a garage (well, really more like tossed over by a drunk girl--me). And knocked over while parked once. And in the dirt a whole bunch of crashing, like about 14 or so times.

The EX was crashed once by me, and once with the help of a minivan, and dropped at least three times that I can remember. And I got hit by a motorcycle on that one also. Also found it knocked over while parked at least twice (fucking cagers, at least pick that shit up!). And someone tried to steal it once, though I still can't fathom why.

The DR350, I crashed once in the street (I like to say I “fell off”) and dropped one other time that I can think of, and I wasn’t even touching it—it popped into gear and launched itself while it was idling and I was standing behind it putting my gear on. That bike was cursed, but fun to ride.

Weekend Addendum

I forgot, Sunday also had wheelie practice. Apparently the DRZ does pathetic wheelies with throttle only, and I was advised to use the clutch despite my wishes for throttle-only wheelies. It IS a lot easier this way, and so I did a couple of cute, tiny wheelies on Sunday. I think Paul even saw one. It was probably the daintiest little wheelie he ever saw. Even did one in front of a cop, who was probably debating pulling me over to tell me how to wheelie properly and then ticket me for my pathetic wee wheelie.

Paul also did a few bitchin' wheelies on my bike, for purely educational purposes.
Yay!

And I’m getting the SV back today, so that ought to be a better wheelie and crashing machine. Phil has laid his magic hands on my SV, so if it is not better now, it cannot be saved, and must go… we’ll see.

Weekend

Friday night:
Step 1: Indian food. Priya on San Pablo, near Lanesplitter. Very tasty Paneer Masala.
Step 2: Horrible movie on cable. So bad I called Daniel to lodge a complaint since I heard he worked on this movie.
Step 3: Picked up Ben & Megan from Oakland airport, Paul and I on our motorcycles. It was a bit of a zoo on account of the holiday, but worked out eventually since we found the “Park & Call” area. Ben looked nervous. I figured Megan would be a better passenger because her brother has motorcycles and my brother has led a very sheltered life, motorcycle-wise. Since I had to take the DRZ, I did not want a shitty passenger. Besides, as I was so happy to point out, this way if one of us got hit, my mom would only lose one of her offspring. Nobody died. Again.
Step 4: Beer.

Saturday:
Step 1: Breakfast, coffee, no mimosas. (dammit)
Step 2: Grazed at the Pasta Shop. So many free samples, so little time. Prima Donna cheese, very tasty.
Step 3: Vivarium: Noteworthy things included watching geckos walk, blue frogs, and the suicidal snake (possibly one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen!), big-ass spiders, and hyperactive turtles.
Step 4: Cruised around 4th Street until the ice cream shop opened.
Step 5: Ice Cream!
Step 6: Margaritas!
Step 7: Nap!
Step 8: Work: New Wave City.

Sunday:
Step 1: Coffee, made fun of the people on 4th street.
Step 2: Sat in hammock, petted cats.
Step 3: Pizza
Step 4: Found some money
Step 5: Friend’s birthday party. Saw the coolest piece of furniture EVER. They have done a ton of work to their house, and it looks spectacular. I got to pet their fishes.
Step 6: San Jose: The whole family was there for once, and we ate cheese and chocolate and wine and port. 4 bottles of wine, and some loud conversation.
Step 7: Dangermouse. He’s the fastest; he’s the quickest; he’s the best.
Step 8: Passed out

Monday:
Step 1: French Toast and coffee.
Step 2: Rode up and down Mt. Hamilton. I made a squirrel very very sleepy. This was the only downer on my weekend. :( Paul will probably never forgive me.
Step 3: Made cupcakes. Very cool cupcakes.
Step 4: Stuffed ourselves full of food (ongoing throughout the day)
Step 5: Charles and friends came over.
Step 6: Watched the fireworks over San Jose
Step 7: Rode home. This was sort of fun and sort of scary. On the one hand, there were little bursts of fireworks going off all over the place, even by the time we got to the City, there were a few going off. On the other hand, drunk drivers. Either weaving/wandering, or going way too goddam slow. Oh, yeah, the cops will never suspect the guy doing 50 in the left lane! Cagers suck. When I’m a cop for a day, I’m pulling over all the shitty cars going too slow. I bet at least 80% are carrying warrants and/or no insurance, or are drunk. Those of us speeding confidently obviously have nothing to hide.

"How would you like to have complete control over what I do?"

Last night I got the first obscene phone call I've gotten in years. It was so exciting. I was like OMIGOD! It's an obscene phone call! But when I tried to click back to it (I was on the other line, and sharing my excitedness with my boyfriend), he was gone. Well, you know, after the initial novelty wore off, I wouldn't really know what to do with it anyway. Maybe like, "do you know where I left the remote?"

This was well into my beer, and I thought it was hilarious.
I'm really very comforted by the fact that ANY technology or discovery humans make, no matter how noble, or hope-inspiring, no matter its possibility to better the lives of millions or answer life's big questions...
Every technology or discovery will eventually be used for porn, sex, or masturbation.

The consistency of the human spirit is really a comfort to me, and I know "they" cannont win, because, at the root of everything, the reason we do all the stuff we do, apparently, all comes back to getting our rocks off.

Stem cell research should turn up some really intriguing opportunities, but so will prosthetics development, and, somehow, though I'm not sure how yet, cancer treatment breakthroughs and alternative fuel technologies. New Ipods is too obvious, but what about bird song research?

This I have complete faith in.

My horoscope

Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
You won't listen to the many people who tell you that your lover is bad for you until it's too late and you're almost completely finished devouring his corpse.

All that's left

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."

Henri Nouwen
Out of Solitude







Comments:
Marisa


...

Thank you.
Posted by Marisa on Wednesday, June 29, 2005 at 6:29 PM

Today's Horoscope

courtesy of the onion:
Severian
(August 1—Sept 6)
You will be unable to shake a deep feeling of unutterable sadness as you roam the world with a scruffy band of misfits at the end of history, performing the occasional execution in your search for your lost mother/lover and a way to rekindle the dying sun.

The "Biker Lifestyle" I keep hearing so much about

Arriving home at 10:15 pm, and having no clear idea of how to digest where you've been and all you've done in the past 48 hours, remembering that at 0:01 you were watching teenagers get thrown out of a gas station in a place called "Arvin," you pulled into Pismo Beach at 3am, watched the sun rise over the San Antonio Reservoir, checked in and later out of a hotel room in King City, and had dinner in San Jose, sometimes you just have to say "Damn, I know for sure that I am just way more hardcore than you all."


PS: the SV has just rolled 20K
more later.


Comments:
hicksmokey


always happy ta hear tales of the road...yer never one ta just sit around spike, glad ta hear it...
Posted by hicksmokey on Thursday, June 16, 2005 at 2:49 PM

In case you don't hear from me again

I’m super swamped.
This week, my sister was in town, which turned out to be kind of maddening, not because of her. Her husband is getting real weird, and I get annoyed easily. They are hill people. Really, I mean, I always sort of joked about it, but this week I realized it wasn’t really a joke. Jeff picked up a grifter cuz, he’s dumb, (and I still think because he’s avoiding my sister) and my sister thinks doesn’t seem to grasp that Einstein might not have been a native speaker of English (incidentally, he didn’t learn to speak until 3 or 4, and was apparently never very comfortable with English). They were both pretty clueless about the grifter they’d accumulated, and, feeling angry about it, Paul and I chipped in extra on dinner. So I guess in the end, we all got played. Because Jeff is a dumbass. Whatever. Total turnoff. I love them, and hope for the best, but episodes like this don’t give me hope

Then getting ready for the Cal24. I mean, really, bare minimum, I’m sure there are a lot of other things we could/should have done to get ready, but whatever. New tires left me without a speedometer for a bit, but Paul jumped in and fixed it. We leave at noon today, and we’ll see what happens. I fully expect to be cranky and throwing something of mine that is broken at 4am in Fort Bragg or otherwise, then apologizing for my behavior later. Also expect to be playing the “blinky game” and hopefully having the good sense to pull over and nap or caffeinate at some point, and also spend a lot of time cursing my decision to attempt this thing at all. Hopefully, I won’t give up, and will finish. I have no goal to get points or win or place; just finishing would be pretty cool.

After that, it’s Father’s Day weekend. Kansas for two days, then back in time to take my dad to dinner. Restaurant is still up in the air. Any suggestions? Somewhere in San Jose, Palo Alto, etc. Hopefully not TOO TOO expensive, cuz we is broke-ass, and somebody has to pay for the SV forks upgrade I’m getting soon.

Wildflowers and Squidiots and Old Friends

The weather this year has been kind of fucked. Still raining into June, and the conditions are unique because of it. Saturday we rode the Santa Cruz hills. Coach Road was like I’ve never seen it before. One of the neat things about Stage and Coach Roads (same road, different parts) is that you can see through a lot of the corners, as instead of hillsides and redwoods, you get these valley fields of low, brown grass to look through. The road is wide and undivided, but somewhat bumpy, if you have shit sportbike suspension. Perfect on the dualies. Anyway, point is, normally, this is a brownish grassy affair, but because of the weird rain this year, the grass was GREEN and like 10 feet tall, and there were wildflowers everywhere. Fucking gorgeous!

Saturday ride, very good. Must get out on the roads more. Really, no fucking around. Oh, and I have gotten so pathetically slow. Even YOU could keep up. Yeah, you.

Sunday was a mixed bag. My tolerance for the ride portion of the day drops a little every year, and I think I’m done. On the one hand, I insisted on going because I love to see everyone, before the ride, in Port Costa, and then at the party, but now I know I can’t tolerate the bullshit ride in between. So as we started going up the hill and I saw the Biker Boyz bullshit happening around me, I gave up: Slow down, put my hand in my lap, follow a minivan up the hill. Why on earth I had to witness some fuckup on a sportbike passing a car in a hairpin WITH A PASSENGER, to race to the next waiting point, I have no fucking clue. You, sir, are a dumbass. And your girlfriend is an idiot to ride with you. Multiply this by however many riders there were. Yeah, here’s a news bulletin:

1.) Riding in the Oakland hills sucks even on a good day. Too many cars and bicycles, and hardly any road anyway.
2.) The Port Costa run is like thirty miles (Or less?) with a lot of stopping and waiting in between to get the stragglers.
3.) The route NEVER changes.
4.) The cops know this, and are EVERYWHERE. (remember the year they followed us with helicopters?)
5.) Please advise what the hell you are racing for?

Paul and I decided at the gas stop (every year’s first stop. Again, did you all not know we were going to go for a ride?) that we would just take off and go straight to Port Costa, but unfortunately, a bunch of people followed us. I actually suggested ducking into Safeway, but it seemed silly. By the time we got into the lower part of the hills, it was boy racer dumbass time all around, and of course there were already cops waiting for the arrivers at the wall. That’s fine by me, as I do not need to ride like a dumbass to have a good time, particularly on the silliest ride of the year. Paul and I took off without pause at the wall, and had ourselves a nice, leisurely ride out to Port Costa. Not speeding. (Surprise, surprise: cops everywhere!) How many of the other riders saw the wildflowers and turkey vultures and goats and squirrels and tractors with kids and dogs in them? Not as many as saw their names written on speeding tickets.

Port Costa was fun, though, and we took off back through the hills (not freeway), pulling into a dirt turnoff to explore some crap just off the road. Beautiful vistas of the reservoir and valley. More squids getting tickets. (what, you were surprised to see cops?!?!)

The party was moved, sadly off the street, but still a good time. Many of the old faces never showed, and that was a bummer. I got silly on a little beer, on account of no food, and then punchy, and then tired, and then decided to take off.

The moral? I gotta start picking my battles more carefully. I know I hate riding with squidiots, and next time, we'll bypass the gas stop and the wall. I'll see you all in Oakland and Port Costa.
More ideas on how to make things fun, lest it just gets tired.
More quality time with quality people. If the danger and fun stupid shit are over, that's fine, but being left with quiet company means the quality counts a lot more.

Seeing the same people once a year makes it real clear to me who's moving and who's not. I've known so many of these people for years and years, and although I was never part of the tight-knit family part, I can see very clearly that I don’t want to fit in too much.
-If you’re talking to me about too much drama, I am delightfully clueless. I’m not even fed up with your “drama,” I just don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about! Fabulous!
-If your answer to “what’s new” is still “same old,” every year, what the hell is wrong with you?!?! You’re not getting any younger! Worse, though, is the visible downward spiral I see on some people.
-Overhearing someone talk about herself and “all the other girls in the scene,” makes me want to start slapping people. Wake up! THERE IS NO SCENE. We are all adults, with lives to make and enjoy, and growth to push for and foster, in ourselves and those around us.

Fortunately, several old friends I talked to were full of exciting news: trips to Baja, bikes back on the road, adventures on and off road, jobs, travel… LIFE. Everyone else: it's time, you are of age, make it happen.


Comments:
Marisa


Reading this makes me so happy I missed the ride for the first time since before 2000 to sing my very first paid role.
:)
Posted by Marisa on Monday, June 06, 2005 at 9:19 PM

Today's Horoscope

(courtesy of the onion)
Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
You've never been afraid to learn the lessons of history, which is why your solution to everything is nuking Japan.

well, this explains something

what's that blinking light on the side for?
California is one of the worst states, 43 out of 49 surveyed.
Fabulous


Comments:
John Foley (ape)

Ummm, I still want to know what the blinking light is. And why is it only on one side of the car? I don't get it. I just couldn't believe that someone scored worse than Massachusetts. I lived through it, and I've never seen worse.

Posted byJohn Foley on Tuesday, June 07, 2005 at 9:04 AM

Italy, China, camping, and stuff

Italy was fun. That much I expected. I still haven’t gotten around to typing up my detailed (and boring) travel journals, but the highlights were like this:

San Gimignano: Highly recommended. Have gelato in the square, at the non-sit-down place. Skip the Torture Museum, wander the streets. Beware of the public toilets; there are no toilets there.
Siena: Also highly recommended. The Duomo is beautiful, and St. Catherine’s head is on display in the other church. Skip the convent.
Pisa: No.
Lucca: Nice, but not as interesting as San Gimignano, Siena, or Volterra. (but less hilly, for lazy people)
Volterra: I MUST go back.
Venice: fun wandering the streets and alleys. Skip the gondola and get a day pass for the Vaporetti, and just ride around. Palazzo Ducale is very worth seeing.
Florence: Beyond Piazzale Michaelangelo, there is a church, the prettiest one I’ve ever seen, called San Miniato. MUST go to Hemingway’s chocolate in San Frediano. Also, had a very good dinner at Napo Leone in San Frediano.
Rome: Overcrowded, touristy, a little hard to penetrate the real life, but we were also very tired and sick by the time we got there.
Vatican City: Big Suck. Can rot, for all I care.

It was a little grueling at the end, and I was glad to be back home. Then, quickly, off to China. China was fun. I enjoyed it. And if you’re going to Beijing, why not stay in a top-notch hotel like I did? You can actually eat the apples without too much fear of food poisoning, and there’s drinkable water and stuff. St. Regis hotel, and a lot of meals at the Hyatt, made the whole thing much easier for me to deal with. Being a vegetarian who never even liked Chinese food to begin with, I had a surprisingly good time there (Except for the “Bird Spit Soup,” which I refused.) Some Chinese people at the Great Wall wanted me to be in their picture, just because. Heh.

Beijing is growing and modernizing everywhere. No American city can compare to the magnitude. And it’s incredibly diverse; every type of cuisine, all kinds of people in the silk market from everywhere. Yes, the vast majority are Chinese, but there are expats from all over the world in large numbers in Beijing. I saw some of the Chinese government and communism, but I also saw a lot of consumer culture and emerging classes.

The traffic is pretty thick and unruly, but not nearly as bad as Rome.

Immediately upon getting home from my return flight, I threw a few things in a bag and went to go camping with Paul and his friends. I was, uhhhh, a bit jet-lagged, and the five or so hour ride up to the site was a slog. And maybe I wasn’t very useful, brain-wise, for the next two days. I tried. Camping trip was fun, but cut short by a day, I think, and we came home Sunday.

Which, frankly, was fine with me. I wanted nothing more than to be at home (at least in the Bay Area), and Monday, Paul put the new tires on my SV, to hopefully solve at least SOME of the bullshit handling. The old tires sucked. After talking a little bit with Jason about his SV mods and info, I’m leaning toward sending the thing to Phil. After all, I intend to take this thing to its grave. And if I’m not selling it, why just suffer with it for the next 60,000 miles? Gixxer front end? Complicates things, have to FIND one first, that isn't fuckered, and then I'd have to do all sorts of crap like re-routing speedometers, converting the clip-on setup back to hold my dirtbike bars, and worrying about how much I fucked up my geometry. Sell it and get a different bike? There’s no other bike I’m thinking would be right either, and anyway, I’d end up sinking another $1000 into that too. Easier just to invest in the Aftershocks magic and keep the SV. I like the engine quite a lot anyway.

But it has to wait. I have tortures in store for that bike in a few weeks. Tires are on, but I need to sort the handlebar situation out. So Thursday I need to re-examine the ProTapers I already have, and possibly put them on and cancel the back-ordered Renthals. Then the barkbusters go on. All this will have to wait until after the Cal24 if it involves longer brakelines. I still have that Scottoiler to put on, though I don’t think there’s time before the rally. So busy…

But damn, I am glad to be home, and glad that the hectic travel should die down for a bit. Weekends are filling up, and I’m SO glad to get some time at home, to stare at my navel for five minutes at a time.

This weekend: Riding Saturday, finally, remember when this was every Saturday and Sunday?

Sunday: West Oakland Riot. (that’s why I’m getting my “riding” riding out of my system on Saturday)

June 10-12: Cal24 Endurance Rally. Oh, yeah.

June 17-19: Kansas for the weekend. Yessir.

June 25-26: Free, but a camping/exploring trip has been discussed. Either the Sheetiron area or some other small town/fireroad excursion.

July 1-5: My brother and his wife are visiting from Seattle.

July 9: Laguna Seca. Yes, Saturday. I don’t give a rat’s ass who wins what on the superbike, etc. circuit. I only want to scratch the tanks on the display bikes, huff race gas, and eat funnel cakes.

Then there are a few free weekends. I’d really like to do some more camping and dual-sporting. Suggestions for dual-sport friendly trips or camping greatly appreciated.

Photos from the Beijing trip: