Some days, you gotta dance. Live it up when you get the chance… but some days, you gotta ride bikes together… motorbikes, that is.
And boy, are those days great… ;D
Some days, you gotta dance. Live it up when you get the chance… but some days, you gotta ride bikes together… motorbikes, that is.
And boy, are those days great… ;D
It took having to meet a friend out for dinner at a very popular place for me to get my scooter back into shape, at last. I do not risk stressful parking situations (which include valet parking), and so used to use the Vespa whenever parking might be difficult. It fits almost anywhere, and usually gets to park right up front, because it can’t really go in a parking spot and ‘waste the space’. Tonight, of course, was no different. They let me park right in front of the front door of the place.
Anyway, that got me going. I called the place down the street to see if they had an air option for tires. They did not, but the car wash across the street from them did for free, he told me. So, I headed on over. As I looked for the air location, the owner of the car wash found me and asked if I was looking for air. We got into conversation about riding frequency and how things have been weird the past several months, and so I never got the bike back into running shape after the freeze in February. He shared about the bike he recently ordered from Italy. He asked if I had ever washed the Vespa. I said how I hadn’t but that I had just been considering it, given the style of car wash place it was, and how it would be just right for washing a bike.
And so, he gave me my first wash for free, and helped me with the air in the tires himself. There felt like 15 different steps in the washing and priming and foaming and scrubbing and special water and wax and tire shine and all…., and it took a while. But it was a great feeling and a great result, cleaning that bike. It has wanted a good scrub and clean for some time now, especially since the cover was destroyed by the freeze with ice and snow.
I then immediately got much-needed gasoline, before going home.
And you know what?
I had been considering getting rid of the scooter, as I hadn’t been using it, and I had started to grow afraid of the dangers of it.
But riding on it this afternoon, after the air and wash…, it was spectacular, and it reminded me of why I loved having the thing in the first place.
Going out tonight with it, I was delighted to be riding again. I am grateful that I did this today, instead of letting it sit until I felt it just had to go.
Anywhere it goes, I hope it carries me safely on top of it – I love riding this scooter.
I don’t know what it is, but there is something about riding my bike on the highway through the cold, winter evening weather that makes me want to arrive home to my husband, have a little romp fest with him, and then snuggle up to a movie and hot cocoa by the fire together.
And, I mean, it isn’t exactly a sexual thing – riding my bike through the cold isn’t an erotic experience or anything.
It is kind of like how a cold winter day just kind of makes you want to snuggle close to a warm mug of hot chocolate or apple cider… only, when riding my bike on these days, I just want to have the little romp fest first, and then snuggle up under blankets with the warm mug.
Just as the hot chocolate just sounds like the perfect next step to the day, so does this little grouping of events sound for me.
Granted, this is Houston, Texas, so we won’t often have fires going anyway, and, besides that, I don’t exactly have a husband at the moment (or anything like one), so my scenario isn’t exactly plausible…, however, the cold weather and wind just somehow make it seem like the perfect way to continue on in the day.
Perhaps, somewhere down the road, that will be the way I end each chilly day of winter.
For now, though, I just smile at the slight irony of the situation and utter oddness about its existence in the first place, and then I feel the chill start to sink into my skin under my ski suit, and suddenly feel slightly sick, my stomach ebbing toward forcing out whatever might be at that moment within its uncomfortable, tightening confines…
Anyway, so that was my afternoon, eh?
How was yours? 😛
Every time I am preparing to go to my aunt’s house, I feel like a little kid all over again.
I end up with a practically overflowing suitcase, and at least one other bag, filled with something or other…
And why do I always pack so much stuff?
Because I want to bring everything awesome with me – I want to share all my best everythings with them all.
I love them and I love being with them, and I, therefore, love sharing all I have and can with them.
So, I want to bring my best, and to be able to share it with them all.
That’s why I practically want to pack up my whole room, plus my kitchen and pantry foods, and bring it all with me.
It’s like the little kid who first wants to wear all of his favorite clothes on one single day, with no concern for the fact that he is wearing two t-shirts, a jacket, a hat, shorts, shoes, and long socks… in the middle of summer…
And that really doesn’t work, when traveling by Vespa…
Fortunately, I had the forethought to have my mom bring my bag of clothes when she goes tomorrow to celebrate my grandmother’s birthday, so that I will have clothes once I arrive next week, a couple days ahead of my mom.
However, just about anything that doesn’t make it into her car tomorrow morning by 7am won’t be making the trip at all… fingers crossed that I have everything already in the suitcase! 😀
My knees hurt.
And I didn’t even go to the gym today.
I had considered going in the morning, but only if I work up at the right time, which is just after 4am.
I woke up at 3am, and was very wobbly on my feet, heading down to the bathroom…, so I knew I wasn’t doing the morning class – I could go at noon.
I had plenty of time after tutoring ended, so I went to fill my water bottle.
By the time I was at my scooter, it was 21 ’til, and the gym is almost half an hour from school…, so I would have to go at 4:30pm, when the rain would be starting, but would be less than during the later classes.
Plus, it wouldn’t be as cold as it would be for the later classes…, but it still would suck.
After eating a late lunch at home, I was exhausted, and could barely keep my eyes open.
My headache had subsided somewhat, but had been around since around 10am, and was becoming a little overwhelming for me.
My knees had been hurting since I’d gotten up for real in the morning.
I finally wasn’t dizzy or wobbly anymore, but my face was hurting, from the slight congestion behind my nose, combining with the pressure change happening outside… or so I declared, anyway.
I determined and chose not to go anywhere else today – I called my mom and let her know that I was going upstairs to get ready for bed shortly, despite the fact that it was only nearly 3pm.
Seeing as how my knees are still hurting right now, hours later, I think t was the right decision not to go to the gym today.
Plus, I caught up on that podcast (An Addict Named Mary), and put away a lot of laundry, and organized a lot of laundry, cleaning up a whole part of my room (which I’ve been wanting myself to do for quite some time now).
Just as I was preparing to get into the shower, I discovered what this muffled beeping noise the previous several minutes had been: the arriving winds were shaking my bike so much, that it was setting of the first round of my alarm, declaring potential tampering with the bike.
So, I had to throw an outer layer of clothing back on myself, rush downstairs, put on the rainboots, and undo the cover and locks on the bike, move the bike to a different location and angle, and redo all of the locks, all while in the wind and cold drizzle.
Then, I went and carefully climbed into a hot shower that made everything feel better.
But my knees still hurt…
I’m not sure if I misjudged yesterday, due to the CBD oil that was in my morning beverage, and then I overdid it with the walking during the photo fun…, or if I overdid things at the workout Saturday morning, and it is hitting me now, that second day afterward, like typical bad muscle soreness…
But it might just be a combination of both: I overdid things, and I’m still not healed in the first place.
Now, I want to set myself carefully in my bed and fall deeply asleep for the night, snuggled under my comforter and big, white teddy bear that I’ve had for possibly twenty years (Can you believe that???… He was mostly decorative for the first decade and a half, and I only recently started snuggling with him regularly… and he gives wonderful hugs and comfort…)…
Yes, I think I will do that now.
Tuesday morning, 12:45am
I am sitting at a red light, on my red scooter, contemplating the cool air and my decision to stick with my shorts for the short ride home, instead of putting back on the still-damp bluejeans I had worn earlier.
A large red, lifted truck pulls up next to me on my right, and stops at the light.
I both hear and see the driver’s window going down, just before he, the driver, leans out toward me and, in a completely sound and sober yet slightly twangy voice, says to me:
“Hi-ii,” I reply with with an extended double syllable.
“The other day,” he continues, without missing a beat, “I was out drivin’, and I saw you out goin’ down f**in’ 59…, and I thought, ‘Shit…, she can go anywhere on that thing.’ You can just drive it everywhere, huh?”
I laugh and give him a ‘basically, yes,’ kind of reply, and tell him how it is 300ccs of power that allow me to drive so comfortably and easily on the highway.
“Did you just one day decide, ‘Okay, I’m not doin’ this anymore,’ and you switched to this so you could reduce your carbon footprint?”
Though his words somewhat shocked me, they were rather applicable to my situation…
“Haha… I mean, kind of, yeah…”
He then tells me how he has one that he rides, but it is not over 150ccs (so he can’t really go much more than, say, about 35 miles per hour on it).
Mine, by the way, can go just enough speed with me on it to time travel… I lack merely a flux capacitor… and some Plutonium, of course. 😛
The light turns to green, but no one else is around, and I am delighted both by the conversation itself, and the absurdity of it all – plus, the guy is clearly sane and sweet, and paying a compliment while being genuinely curious – he wanted to know how it was even possible, since his scooter wobbles even when big four-doors or fast two-doors pass by.
After the next cycle of the light, however, a car was pulled up behind me, so I went ahead and slowly started moving as we finished up our final exchanges and wished one another a great and safe night.
I then sped my way home in the slightly too cold for comfort air, and rushed to lock up, shower, and get to sleep, grateful for the lively experience of Southern Hospitality and connection – my day certainly has ended on a lovely note.
Now for the sleep part of my nightly plans…
How do you spend your afternoons and evenings after work?
Napping in your chair at your desk, because you hear rain and thunder (despite a stated 10% chance of rain)?
Followed by finally leaving after you awaken, accomplish some more work, and hear that the rain has stopped?
Followed by stopping for gas just in time for a torrential downpour, with extremely strong winds blowing in varied directions, shooting sheets of water every which way, on three-minute increments?
Which leads to just sitting on the ground, already soaked in your jeans, semi hiding behind your bike as wind/rain protection?
Followed, finally, by a release in the rain that allows you to resume being soaked by it, but that is safe enough for driving again, and so you head home super cautiously, get super soaked, and arrive he to blue skies and no rain, because the clouds have pushed through so quickly, but flooded street sides and driveways bottoms?
Despite a 10% chance of rain?
Yeah, that’s about how I spent my afternoon and evening today, too.
(I’ve decided to share about Class 101: the laughing out loud class, instead of 100, so that’ll come next week.)
I went to the workout this morning, and it was rather uneventful but that my friend and I finished second in the workout, and there were a lot of people there today… we just found a beautiful way to get through the push-ups, and it worked perfectly – when other people seemed to take forever on the push-ups, we slammed through them quite quickly.
After the workout, I practiced and improved my double-under jump roping, and was glad for it.
I then went home and made a spice cake from the grain-free/flour-free zucchini brownie recipe I’ve been using, but this time used cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, and ginger instead of cocoa powder… and it was delicious.
I discovered that I have no interest in going to Minute Maid Park, due to their security requirements that prevent me from having any form of protection, as well as a reusable water bottle (even empty)…, and so I did not go to the Astros game to which I had been just invited.
I did go to a house party – not the jammin’, drug kind, but the friends hanging out together kind – instead, and it was wonderful.
However, on the way to the party, on my way to stop at the new grocer to pick up plates that were requested for the party, I found myself at a stoplight next to car crammed with young guys (adults, but still younger than I am) who clearly had just played a soccer game together – the matching jerseys and sweaty hair kind of gave that one away.
As I turned and saw the front seat guys looking my way, the back window rolled down, and three faces looked out at me, smiling.
“I like you’re scooter.”
“Does it go fast?”
I shrug, knowing fully that their borderline joking comment is about to choke them, “I’ve gone eighty on it,” I say, quite casually.
Their eyes pop open wider than one could have imagined, and their mouths opened wide, ready to catch some flies…
“Mmhmm… It’s a big scooter, 300ccs,” I add quickly, smiling, before driving off, for the light has turned to green.
At the next stoplight, the car pulls next to me again, the back window still down, the boys smiling bigger than ever.
“Long time no see,” they laugh together.
I laugh and smile broadly.
“Do y’all know where the HEB is?” I ask, having just been wanting to be able to ask someone (which was why I had even looked over to their car in the first place).
“Yeah! It’s on this street,” one says, pointing forward and to the right side a bit, confirming my thoughts.
“Are you going grocery shopping?”
“Can you put your groceries on there?”
“Are you going to carry groceries on that?”
“Do you need help?”
The sudden rapid fire of their near-simultaneous questions knocks me back a tad, and makes me smile and chuckle even more than I already had been doing.
“Yes, I can carry groceries, yes, I’m going to the store now,” – “Really?” – “and no, I don’t need help.”
I then drive off again at the newly green light, and see them take off not far behind me.
As I slow and pull into the HEB parking lot, I both see and hear them passing me one final time, saying a few more positive comments that make me laugh (though I do not at present remember what exactly they were – I was focused on the turn and figuring out the parking lot and watching out for stupid people in cars in the lot, but I remember that they were pleasant comments of well-wishing).
I enter the garage fully chuckling fro the hearty spot on my belly, lips super wide on their glorious, teeth-filled grin position – I just had my first fanboys, I think to myself, and smile all over again.
Some of my most beloved memories aren’t actually my own memories.
How my cousins would marry multiple friends at their school’s spring fling – marrying was one of the booths at the event, and so you could pay a dollar and be spring fling married to as many people as dollars you wanted to pay…
How my mom came across my brothers, aged about four years and one year, in a room with “MICHAEL MICHAEL MICHAEL MICHAEL” written a few feet off the ground, all over the walls… A—- could barely hold onto a marker, let alone stand tall enough to reach the words, as well as being able to write letters, and yet Michael says honestly to my mom, “A—- did it.”
When that same brother, aged maybe a year more, was angry at my mom at home, and declared in a huffy huff, “Well, you’re a…. you’re a damn!” and then stormed out, while my mom did her best not to explode in front of him with laughter.
And, once more, when that brother was a little younger, and he was with my mom at the store, and he began throwing a fit about not being allowed to have a toy of some sort, and my mom told him to hang on, and she asked the lady a few feet away from them, “Excuse me, ma’am, is he loud enough? Can you hear him okay?”… and my brother shut up really quickly…
One of the best memories is from a video in which A—- receives a birthday present, when aged around four or five years, that is inside a massive cardboard box in the garage… Michael stands within view, his back to the camera, awesome bicycle shorts on full display, and then picks a massive wedgie… a few moments later, A—- walks inside the cardboard box, disappearing from view, and everyone suddenly hears, in a little boy’s imperfect pronunciation, “Batman bike!!!”
He then appears, walking out of the box, pushing an awesome little Batman bicycle with training wheels (and all the boys are instantly envious).
These are a few of my favorite memories…, and yet none of them even had me present, and most were before I was even born.
They aren’t exactly my memories…
That someone how doesn’t change the the fact that I love them dearly, nor that I share them regularly with people.
I still find it somewhat weird, nonetheless, because, again, they aren’t even my own experiences that I’m remembering – just the stories of the experiences… perhaps that is how things are when people love events from history, you know?
The great wars or movements or, even, fashions or movies…. they are, in a way, borrowed memories…
P.S. A big bug hit me in the face on the way home today, and it hurt. 😛 haha
Some days, your body just takes over, and, if you’ve been taking really great care of it, it does this responsibly.
Today, I missed three alarms.
I still made it to school on time, but just barely.
You see, for the fifth day in a row, I was scheduled to get up just after 4am this morning.
At that time, I was scheduled to go downstairs and eat my first breakfast, then participate in the first part of the morning meditation that would be happening, starting at 4:30am, and then, with an extra backup alarm to make sure I leave in time, ride my bicycle down the road to the gym for a 5:30-6:30am workout.
I then would return home, shower, eat a second breakfast, now post-workout, and head off, with prompting from my third alarm, to school at about 7:05am.
This, of course, did not happen.
I awakened at 3:15am, in desperate need of a potty break.
I went downstairs and used the bathroom, then came back up to bed, grateful that I had another 45 minutes to sleep, and I passed out again.
I eventually opened my eyes to find some sunlight shining through my skylight curtain, and I panicked.
I jumped up and checked the time: 7:02am.
I threw on my clothes as fast as possible, and rushed downstairs.
I managed a basic breakfast smoothie, did my teeth-cleaning routine and used the bathroom, all in a borderline frenzy that was somehow calm, too – I kept my head about me, but I moved as quickly as I could manage effectively and safely.
Fortunately, the weather was expected to be rainy in the afternoon, so I was already planning to drive my car to work, which is significantly faster than taking my non-highway route with the scooter.
I somehow arrived to school, used the bathroom, let the kids into class, swapped out what I’d brought to school with what I’d needed for class from my office, and greeted students before the bell rang for class to begin…
By the grace if God, I suppose… by my name.. 😛 🙂
And… it was a wonderful day.