Weather Fail, Cleaning Win-- So Basically, Yeah, Fail.

The weather decided to suck it hard today, incurring my wrath and wrecking my plans to take Penny (my new bike) out for her maiden voyage. I knew if I made an attempt to be slightly domestic today it would make Dan happy, so I spent a few hours -- blurhg-- sorry, just threw up a tiny bit-- cleaning. Most of you know how I feel about that. If Dan ever needed proof of my undying lurve for him-- there you have it.

So here's a little tour of some of the now clean parts of my home. This is the thermostat monkey my pal Linda gave me. His twin lives at her house somewhere. The thermo monkey is always watching. Don't waste heat!


This is the tiny cat walking across the doorway to our kitchen no one ever notices. He's very secretive. Nice paint job huh? Looks like someone tossed urine all over the walls doesn't it? Yeah. You know how when you move into a place you're all, "Well, we're for sure changing this and that?" Haven't quite gotten around to it yet. Peetastic.

This is half the desk in the kitchen. It holds numerous treasures as you can see. (Click for bigger views on any of these.) The cool shell I got from the river running behind our house. The stone under it fits the shape of my palm exactly, and has a vein carved through it that lines up perfectly with my life line. That seemed pretty cosmic so I kept it. The card behind the pens has two old showgirls on it. One says, "Does this make me look trampy?" The other answers, "A little." "Then I need more." "Rock on." I also like the little dolls hanging out in the lid of the marker box. There's lots here...

My window is surrounded by pics-- Sis chasing my future Danger Girl niece around on the beach, my mom holding my rockin' nephew, me and Dan, Dan drinking the biggest mug of cocoa known to man, my feet (I'll explain in a second), my dad, and Dan in Hawaii. Oh, and an elephant. Like those.


Other half-- oh boy! Megan dressed as her own made-up superhero (so cool), feet-- OK, here's the thing-- I have this thing about taking pics of my feet when I'm somewhere I love really digging it big time and I want to always remember the feeling of that exact moment. It works. It's like a sense memory. I can feel that water, that grass, those rocks, smell that air, feel the sun. It's part of my ongoing love affair with planet Earth I guess. The awesome shot of the girl with her arms over her head is the first time Sis ever got up on a board. So glad she finally tried it. Now she's a surfer chick.

Some of the shelves in the kitchen. Writing books, tea, marble collection, a big letter "U" I bought at a junk shop and carried around all day going, "It's all about U today!" to my friends. Yes, I'm pretty obnoxious I mean hilarious.


The other half of the desk! Part of my favorite poem by EE Cummings stuck in the lid of the cigar box. The never-say-die-orchid that took almost two years to bloom again from my aunt Kathy. The friendship paperweight made by my brilliant artist pal and partner in weirdness Linda. Assorted cool rocks and shells and bits of glass. The Mary poking from behind the scissors pot is actually "St. Bitch The Fierce". I've decided if I have a patron saint-- she's it. Oh, and my fat kitty sculpture. And on the lion tray- coins from me and Dan's honeymoon.

My house almost always looks like burglars just tossed the joint. I hate cleaning, but I love my house and living here. There's just so much other fun to be had. All my real friends are just down with it. (Got to be) The first time they come over I say, "Sorry it's such a pit in here, but-- it always is." People have to judge me on other stuff and decide about me. I'm def NOT Suzy Homemaker.

EDIT TO ADD;
I guess yesterday was "4/20"-- So happy "4-20" pot smokers. The last time I indulged, back in the stone-age (haha), it went something like this as I recall;

smoke smoke smoke
something random and dumb happened
laugh laugh laugh
laugh laugh laugh
laugh laugh laugh
"Oh my god I'm so wasted."
"Me too man."
"Ok, I'm done now. Make it go away."
"Um, dude--"
"Oh yeah. Crap."
boring foggy boring
foggy BORING foggy
super hungry
whole night wasted

Yeah. Don't miss it.

WEE!

The first time I ever got into trouble with my bike, er, trike actually, was when I figured out if I turned it upside down I could use it to shoot gravel at the side of the house. Dad wasn't so keen on that idea.

The first bike I ever actually got to help pick out was a purple number with a banana seat and ape-hanger handle bars. I used to pretend it was alive and ride it through fields and all over, just going and pretending the bike was taking me somewhere only it knew about.

We moved all the time and that feeling of getting on the bike and lighting out to parts unknown, exploring the new terrain, kind of got worn into me like a groove. Even when I was a snotty teenager I rode, sometimes with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth (wow, cool huh?-- not), but I rode. My bike still feels like a magic carpet at times.

Now Mama's got a brand new bag (mountain biking) and a brand new ride. I still have the hula bike and love it, even if it's kind of a joke. She rides nice and everyone who sees us underestimates us which can work out pretty good at times. She's for roads though.

This was the one I wanted at first, just because that metallic blue paint job was so alluring. I knew, of course, that that was no way to pick a bike. Al, the owner of the bike shop I frequent, Ramsey Cycles (awesomeness-- shop there), said, "I'm glad to hear you think it's pretty, because some guy just bought one for his girlfriend, but that's not the bike for you, not for where you want to ride-- too flimsy."

I originally planned to bling-out whatever bike I wound-up really obnoxiously, like my helmet-- back when rhinestone flames were part of the plan. Can't you see it? Me zooming along-- handlebar streamers whipping in the wind? Giant bell going "ching ching" as I blew by people?

But when I saw her -- my new bike...

All her gorgeous little details...

The fancy cranberry and white paint job I would never have picked out
but that is so perfect and reminds me of Hawaii...

All her brand new parts, still all shiny and gleaming...

I knew sticking a bunch of gaudy crap all over her was NOT going to happen. She's perfect just how she is. Her white parts remind me of go-go boots.

She was actually the only bike that fit me besides some lame-o fake mountain bikes that looked like giant Barbie rides, and this other one that was several hundred dollars more than I had. The BSG's (bike store guys) were amazed I was riding Hillside on my husband's too-big-for-me cross bike. Al said, "Once you try it on this, you'll be amazed how much easier it will feel." We'll see.

Some guy who works there, the BSG who tuned-up Dan's for me actually, invited me to ride with him and his crew Sat mornings @ 6 freakin' A.M. (I know-- farmer early yo) Al was like, "You should!" I said, "But they're boys. If I actually showed-up they'd all bum-out and be frustrated to have someone so newby and slow tagging along."

They told me lots of people don't even get as far as I did my first couple of tries, even on actual mountain bikes-- that fit. Who knows, maybe I will show up some Sat. morning. It would be nice to have some people to ride with sometimes. I keep looking for girls to do stuff with, but not much luck so far. Trusty Pam was gone all last week and I had totally no one to play with at all. (pouts).

In the meantime I will take my new honey over to the trail tomorrow (if it's not too wet) and try her out. I don't dare ask to join anyone's little ride group until I know I can at least half-way keep up. Stay tuned.

EDIT TO ADD;
Just noticed, my new bike is the exact same color as my dream drum set from a couple posts ago! (Insert Twilight Zone music here!)

Get Your Jump On

Hey people. It's Fav Music Fri again. I wanted Ida Maria's "I like you better when you're naked" vid, but embedding is disabled. You can see it HERE. It's very peppy/poppy/fun, and the bananas are pretty funny.

While trying to find an uploadable version I stumbled on this. I still love watching horses move, and seeing this girl jumping brought back a lot of memories, not that I was ever this good. You can see how her body moves with the horse though-- how her arms move forward to let the horse's head and neck do what they need to. That's very similar to the mountain bike from what I've gathered so far.

Anyway, enjoy watching. Check out the vid link if you have time. Have a good weekend!

Redistribution Of Math

Hey people. I super wanted a clip from that movie "Stranger than fiction" for today's post -- the one where Maggie Gylenhaal yells at Will Ferrell, "Get bent TAXMAAAAAN!" But alas, it was not to be had.

Anyone who doubts my claims that math is evil-- look no further. Behold this evidence, from my very own "receipts" file.

I know. Just look at these disjointed scribblings, these numbers. (Shudder.) Hubs shoved this in the file. I tell you he is trying to drive me incrementally insane. Ultimately neither of us had any idea what this represented. It gives me the creeps just to look at it. I just threw up a tiny bit.


Shake it off. Tax day is over for a whole 'nuther year. (Yes, I know 'nuther isn't a word. I'm a writer yo. But come on. People say it. It's liberating and bad, like 'aint. Get feisty-- nuthahhhh...)

Some of you may remember my drumming ambitions. I've been saving for drums for quite a while. I took a few lessons as one of my "out of the box" moves and it was really fun. The only thing about it was I felt a little disingenuous. I LOVE music, especially rock. The rock tempo usually matches a heartbeat. You feel your life force pounding away with the beat.

But I'm not one of those people who is "musical". I've never had that driving force inside compelling me to play an instrument. Being in a band sounds like a blast, but the drumming thing doesn't come from a musically creative space in me. It would just be a way to enhance my jamming out.

But theses look cool as hell don't they? Don't you just want to bang away?

Now that I've had a taste of the scary, thrilling fun of the mountain bike trail, my drum money is going to become bike money. Yep, talked to Dan, and I get to get a new bike! (Not becasue he is the boss of me, but because we talk about any big purchases either of us wants to make.)

Doesn't this look fun?

My real world life and my creative life are inextricably tangled. In my novel one character I really like is a drummer, another is this guy who has an adrenaline addiction. He uses thrills to constantly snap himself into what he calls the "right now", and teaches his daughter to do the same. Mountain biking feels very much like that. You are all the way there. Weirdly, that feeling reminds me of welding too. When you're doing it you're not thinking about too much else, although it's on a much calmer level. You're in the right now.

Hanging out in nature all by myself for hours was what led me back to my real self almost twelve years ago. It brought back memories of fort building, and tramping around in the woods and fields as a kid, discovering little hidden away spots, feeling adventurous and immortal, swinging from vines. The bike gives me another way to do that that the drums don't.

Now all I need is to find a little tribe of adventurers for me and Trusty Pam to hang with occasionally.

Lived!

I rode 3/4 of the mountain bike trail and lived to tell the tale! Woo-hoo ME! Some of you may remember my threats from last fall to get a nutcase 8-ball helmet and bling it out with rhinestone flames, and possibly devil horns. That never happened. Instead I got a modest little black number and glued words onto the back. "Rides like a girl"-- which I mean in the "as in totally pwntastically!" way, but in my case, for now, it is still kind of the "in your face you wussy girl" insulting way. For now.

I had some wins and some fails on my ride that break down like this:

Chickening out on some rocky downhill sections-- jury still out. Felt like a fail, but I didn't feel ready. Bravery fail-- Not getting killed win?

Screwing up my courage on a few downhills that looked scary, and one big bowl type deal with a swoopy s-curve running through it-- win!

Being overly cautious about my speed and chickening out on a big, banked downhill curve, causing my bike to slide down the embankment sideways and scraping my leg-- fail.

Dan's bike constantly skipping teeth and not shifting when asked, then suddenly skipping gears when not asked to-- equipment fail!

A bit of not cool waddling along, straddling the bike because I didn't quite make it all the way up the hill-- fail.

One girl-nad crunching incident due to slow reflexes-- fail.

Keeping going, even into one of the more advanced sections, heck, even trying this on a lame-o bike that doesn't fit all by myself-- WIN!

I talk all big, and do like being darey, but my self-preservation instinct is pretty strong. Plus, I know how eff'd I'll be if I get laid-up. It's not like I have Aflack, and I really go nuts if I can't burn it off every day. Nope, can't get big time injured. Have to be cautiously darey.

I have to say this is fun. I can tell if you have a bike that's responsive and you've had more hours in it could be really be a blast. I like the flowy feeling when things are going right, and how much it reminds me of riding horses. I like the feeling of my arms moving with the front of the bike, and my legs being shock absorbers. I REALLY like how you have to be constantly looking, thinking, evaluating. Half the time I didn't even know what was playing on the iPod, too focused on the trail. I think this will be really fun as I get better. I can't wait to feel confident enough to go down all the scary hills and go flying over little jumps and stuff.

Glad to be once again getting out of the box! Let me know if you ever want to try it. There are easy sections and harder ones, and like I said, you can always get off and walk through scary parts.

EDIT TO ADD;
The new miracle pants are a total success btw. They don't show sweat and seem to dry instantly, plus, didn't show the dirt from my one little spill. Later I was working and kneeling on the ground and they look totally clean and brand new! They are "rapid capri's" from Title 9, in case you're in the market.

Decided I'm Going To Ride The Trail Tomorrow.

So in my head it goes something like this...



Stay tuned.

This Is Not Pee...

Psyched it's biking season again, not so psyched it's not shorts weather yet. When I bike in spring I like to wear capri pants-- kind of baggy. One problem. When I ride I sweat because I like to ride as fast as I can, and go at least 12 to 15 miles, and when I get off it totally looks like I pee'd my pants. I'm thinking the solution is a T-shirt that says "This is not pee" on the front.

I know-- I know I could wear spandex, which doesn't show the sweat that much. I've gotten used to my one pair of running pants like that, but it's not my preference. Probably the whole official thing. Spandex says, "serious gym-rat/ athlete", and I want my pants to say, "wild-card, not serious anything, and 'This Is Not Pee'."

Anyway, got a new pair made of some miracle fabric. Hopefully they'll work. Either way it'll be shorts season soon and problem solved.

I'm getting super psyched about riding the mountain bike course. Every time I run it now I'm looking at it imagining going the opposite direction on wheels. Who knows? Maybe I'll take to it faster that expected. The couple of times I tried it it did remind me a lot of jumping horses-- the whole balancing thing, and I like stuff that's kind of hard, where you burn off a bunch of energy, intense or whatever. Sis's free bike is coming around the 22nd. We'll soon see.

Trusty Pam also wants us to get into rollerblading. We're doing a kayak race the first weekend in May too. Kayaking early is another not good pants scenario since ours are open and you always get wet.

If anyone sees me around anywhere, just know-- it's not pee. Probably.