Restoring My Faith in Humanity

I was driving home last night, and managed to get…almost all the way home before my bike ran out of petrol.

It doesn’t have a meter or anything for consumption of gasoline, and I’m still getting used to it. (These are my excuses.)

I managed to pull in to the drive way of a church, and then I started trying to flag people down.

I managed to catch a really wonderfully helpful guy who “used to ride, back in the day”, and a state patrolman.

(The state patrolman was a bit nerve-wracking, because I was really just hoping for someone with a phone, because I lost mine last night, and driving home is really doing interesting things for me at this point, for real. Not that I’m *really* complaining, but, y’know. I could do with getting home being a bit *less* interesting for a while.)(Also, I don’t have my license currently, because I lost it last night. Along with everything else.)

Anyway, Helpful Man managed to work some magic (A.K.A. switch to the freaking reserve tank, which, for real, I should have known better. I am doing *SO WELL* at this “responsible bike owner” thing right now. Ugh.)

and the State Patrolman shadowed me up to the nearest gas station, and then filled up my tank for me.


I just.


I love people.

I don’t understand how I’m so lucky *all of the time*.

But, I’m also choosing not to question it, really, because it’s clearly working out in my favour.

So I just continue going around in awe, because. Humanity. You beautiful fucking creatures.

I love you all. Thank you so much.


To Make Better Decisions (and Tie Better Knots)

Today I was getting on my bike to go home, and the straps on my backpack snapped.

I had this moment where I thought “I could go back in to work, drop off my bag in the office, and then get a new bag and fix everything tomorrow.”

Then I thought “No, but all my stuff is in there.”

So I tied it to my bike.

This turned out to be a very poor decision when I reached home, and there was…definitely not a bag on my bike.

This is particularly frustrating because…I don’t actually suck at knots? Like, I’ve worked on sailboats. I’ve done rigging in theatre. I’ve also tied stuff down to the trailers and stuff before.

But, clearly I over-estimated my knot-tying skill (and quite possibly the strength of already-snapped straps, come to think of it…) and underestimated the force of windspeed applied to something tied to the back of a motorcycle.

So, I lost my bag.

This is a distinctly unfortunate development, because it was also raining when I drove to work today. So, not only did I lost the standard things I keep in my bag (wallet, phone, etc.(I only put my keys in my pocket on a whim. THANK YOU WHIM. I AM SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO GET INTO THE VIVARIUM. LOVELY, BEAUTIFUL, WARM VIVARIUM.) I also lost my only jacket, and my towel (because I have a camping towel that is *tiny* yet efficient and I LOVE IT SO MUCH and I use it all the time for everything, like drying off my bike before I go on a ride, or using it to go on the top of my bag just in case water gets in, or sepearating wet gear from dry stuff. It’s the BEST THING EVER.)(Only I don’t have it anymore. I’m using an old pair of fisher-pants as a towel right now. It’s weird. :P)

I also lost half of my work clothes and a couple of shirts.

This wouldn’t matter so much, except for the whole part where my clothing selection is still quite backpacker-sized. So, losing two shirts from a total collection of *eight* is a pretty big impact.

On the other hand, I think that I have finally managed to destroy the last bits of my brain that connect sentimental value to clothes.

I went back to try and find my bag, and upon not finding my bag, I just kind of went, “Well. That’s what happens to stuff sometimes…” and went to bed.

An Ethical Dillema

I’m just…not sure how I feel about the idea of taking my dog to


I mean. Do they drool every time the bell rings and a customer walks in?

That would be the most *disgusting* floor…pretty much *ever*.


Even better,


That’s right. You can board your pet there.

Your dog is going to be exactly the same when you come to pick it up.



Who thought this was a good idea?


Words of the Week:



plisky, n., adv., and adj.
1)  A mischievous trick
2) A Frolic
chary, adj.
1) archaic :  dear, treasured
2) discreetly cautious: as
             a :  hesitant and vigilant about dangers and risk
             b :  slow to grant, accept, or expend  – (a person very chary of compliments)

Overcoming Fear

I have decided to commit to a two-wheeled vehicle.

This has proved to be a really intersting decision, in the way that it was fueled from a really weird place.

In the past year, I have made many decisions, not all of which were particularly *good* decisions. I got used to a certain level of fear in my life, and now I’m trying to figure out what to do with that.

At the time, it wasn’t something that I particularly noticed, but when I went back, and started comparing my current thought processes to the ones that I had years ago, there was really only one noticeable change for me, and that was this addition of *fear*.

It’s frustrating, because I can’t just…wish it away. I can’t just go back to being the way I was before. I don’t get to magically stop assessing situations from this place where I am now, where fear is a part of how I view life.

That’s really hard for me, because it’s so easy to remember when that *wasn’t* how I felt.

(Or maybe it’s not. Maybe I just processed it all differently then.)

I was sitting there, listening to all of the people who say things like “Is that safe?” and “Don’t die!” and I just thought…Is that really the only reason? This is a thing that I want to do. I’m thinking about not doing it. The only reason…is fear.

(And I understand, this is a reasonable, logically founded fear. Like. I get it. If you’re in a accident on a motocycle, you’re in a *really bad* place. I do get that.)

But I’m also really done with rationalizing fears to be “sensible”.

Fuck. That.

Yes. Shit may happen.

But how much am I truly willing to let that control my life?


So. I have bought a motorcycle.


I am terrified, and exhilerated.


Which is apparently a situation that I like to be in. But it feels good.

Status: Regular

I have officially reached the point where the coffee shop baristas start my order when they see me walk in the door. They give me a wave as they head out after their shift is over.


This….took a worryingly short amount of time to happen…