Badassery

Wow. I might be hooked. Now, I need 6k though. Riding this beauty gave me a new appreciation for an amazing bike.

I loved this Yeti. It was a long term love.

So we had micro skill lessons regarding braking, body position, feet position and use of legs. That took a full hour and then we crossed the pavement and went straight down for our 4-mile trail ride. We had to jump a rock right away. Whoa. I was much happier climbing and thought that we would do that first. The trail was beautiful, and I was so engrossed that I didn’t take any pictures of it. I loved this class and would take it again–I probably will.

A mountain bike has a seat release on the left side so that when you’re climbing you can pop it all the way up and take your weight off of the seat while it rises. You can push down on it when you’re navigating rocks and bumps so you’re lower and well back on the saddle with your elbows out. I’m so much more comfortable with biking now generally and really can’t say enough nice things about this particular bike. I’d love to get one. I’d use it too!

So, I’m going to clean my chain completely on my road bike, and then I’m going to take my son’s old Raleigh to the used sports store where I bought my pickleball racquet new, and get him situated on my Fuji Mountain Bike. The reach is too large for me, so he can have it for getting around. I need to get something for commuting that I can put a rack on for my panier. I actually should buy a new panier and give my son one. I’m not going to have a mid-level Mountain Bike anymore. I’m going to keep my road bike and also maintain it better, get a beater commuter with some manner of shocks with a new panier and save up for a real, Yeti Mountain Bike. The sport is fun and I don’t ever need to do anything epic. I just want to ride around on trails sometimes.

Doing it safely

About 15-years-ago I took my horrible, hand-me-down Mountain Bike up a single track. I’m sure that my bike was cutting edge in the 90s, but it was so heavy and had broken pieces up near the brakes and was archaic for 2008. I was doing pretty well for awhile, and then I fell forward onto the frame. Ouch. I know that I’m not male, but was really bruised afterward. That was my last experience mountain biking.

Today, I am taking a class to learn how to do it safely. I peeled potatoes and put them in some hot olive oil in the cast iron with sea salt and am going to mosey in just under a couple of hours after I eat some of those, and a couple of eggs. The class is really close to the private crag wherein I had my very first time on real rock in September for climbing.

I still hope that Maryland will secure a friendship with me. My son told me that all men just wait until they can make moves for the most part unless they think of you like a sister. I’m going to tell Maryland to think about me as an older sister. He truly is the age that my little brother would be had he not died when we all got hit by the drunk driver when we were walking up to the park. I would like Maryland to do some outdoor stuff with me. I love having male friends.

My best friend from work is doing the divorced wild stuff. I did that stuff when I came out. I’m sure that she is using barriers because she worries actively about STIs. I sent her a book chapter in PDF form yesterday because she has trouble communicating needs with intimacy. I can’t imagine that. Why bother having sex with another person if you’re not going to talk directly about what you like?

My son is at my cousin’s this weekend to care for their dog, and the realtor–who unfortunately I’m still a little attracted to–was supposed to come over for dinner with my son and I on Sunday, but I’m cancelling because the contractors are about to get fired. I don’t want that to color a dinner at our house, as that is what we’ll talk about.

That is a whole other blog entry. The attraction isn’t. I don’t touch the realtor or act or text anything flirtatious. She wants a friendship with me and we can build that cleanly. I think that attraction fades when you don’t act on it or expect that you’ll get your chance someday.

I’ll write about the mountain biking class on Sunday or Monday.

Broken

Not my heart, but my pinky. I thought that I had jammed it because I was holding a ball when a shot was near my head so I blocked it with the ball that I was holding. It really hurt, but I could bend both joints. I couldn’t play though and our team manager got pissed. It was Super Bowl Sunday and we didn’t have a full team. I was sorry that we were at a disadvantage, but couldn’t use my right hand well. We lost. She was pretty nasty to me. She’s a little weird anyway and sneers, but she was visibly mad about my hand.

The next day after my shower it was zombie colored. I knew that it was broken. I showed the climber and her commuting partner. They were in my car. I don’t have a good read on the climber anymore. She’s not cold, but definitely not effusive any longer. I don’t want details and didn’t give her or her commuting partner who I drove to work any information about my Poly-Cougar kissing episode at the bar on Friday. I’ll drive them next Friday and will have to see if they like riding with me when my son is in the car because I’ll have to give him a lift once a week when I drive. I dropped her off at her house and she said, “Bye.” I don’t know. I also don’t chase. I’ll just see what the next month or so involves.

Conversation was pretty dominated by her commuting partner on the way in and then she asked me a question about my son that was open-ended on the ride home. I have been encouraged by his openness and attitude lately so I told her and him about my hopefulness. She talks more in describing adventures in the car, and frankly lately. I don’t even know how mediation with her ex for the house has been going. I guess that I don’t feel close with her. I can be open, but she seems maybe a little guarded. I’m not going to give energy to thinking about why, and will drive them both next Friday if they want to save gas and be green.

I got a popsicle stick from work and waterproof tape and have my finger splinted. I have been toggling over with my ring finger to type, but shifting is very awkward and slow. It’s ok because the pinky is easiest. It’s just the shifting thing that is super slow. It could be much worse.

I probably won’t get to play in our last couple of dodgeball games. I’m only going to play kickball for this league. I don’t want to be around the team manager who is a varsity dodgeball player. I may go back to the other league anyway because I don’t have to play on a gay league. I had fun last summer. There was a woman who gave me wine and she was friends with a lesbian married couple on that league, so I can probably still meet woman in the other league.

I had so much fun in guitar class last night! The teacher is a nut and I’m honing my skills. I’m going to play a song at open mic at the bar. I would like to get the strumming pattern for “Little Bit of Love” down completely and do a sing-a-long. I’m going to practice all weekend. I have my grief group for the loss of my parents tonight, which always helps. My colleague who almost died is going too. Life is pretty good right now.

It’s snowy and pretty today. Since Saturday I’ve biked 24-miles, so with biking everyday Friday through Tuesday, I ought to get to at least 50. I won’t bike today, but maybe I can bike to work on Thursday. I can do that with a broken, splinted pinky!

Daily Grind

One would think since I had yesterday off that today would have been less tiring, but it wasn’t.  I at least had two cups before I left which always makes the ride in less like I am in a drunken stupor.  It should be noted that I don’t drink every night.  I’m just that addicted to caffeine, and have not been drunk in the morning since 1997 when I was watching the brown and white tile spin in my Victorian Horror and Fantasy class. A good class, that.  I was talking with my work wife about “She” today, which was an odd book that we read in that summer course.  I told her that now I really understand, “She-who-must-be-obeyed.”  I tend to date her.  At least twice.

Anyway there was a scant amount of coffee left in the pot prior to my 6:30 am departure, and my regular thermos is obscene, so I couldn’t transfer it there.  I filled up my ceramic mug that I had today–one of my favorites, my Virgo mug, circa 1995–and then put the rest in my thermos from elementary school.  I have since lost the metal box, but love this thermos; although, it holds little coffee, but made me happy.

I just wish that I hadn’t gotten my “Masters of the Universe” one stolen. That one was awesome–I miss Skeletor, with the exception of his awful voice.

I always drink coffee out of ceramic mugs.  I am at best, persnickety, and at worse, uptight in bizarre ways.  Thing is that I don’t really give a shit.  My gf calls me neurotic and I don’t care about that either.  Currently, I’m drinking one of the best seasonals that one of my favorite microbreweries makes right now, but the whole previous theme of disgust brings me to their main spring seasonal, which leaves a film on the roof on one’s mouth that is like drinking coffee out of styrofoam.  I loathe it.

I did like my coffee today.  I did not like my 10.5 hour work day.  I will not like my 8.5 one tomorrow either, but the good thing is that my son’s Godfather is going to teach me gear 101 tomorrow after work (Which brings me back to this microbrew that is BOMB).  That way, I won’t be humiliated on the bike on Thursday and Friday with my gf.  Why I am with a triathlete again?  Oh, wait, that’s right.