New Blog!

We Have House!

...and I have started blogging our meager exploits in home improvement.

Waiting... and Obsessing

After looking at this page for the first time in over a year I realized... that I haven't posted in over a year. I'm not sure anyone has even noticed.

Worse yet, the last addition to this blog was a very sad one, in fact, reading it again indeed made me cry. Losing a parent sucks. Seriously sucks, and not something I think you ever really fully recover from. It gets a little easier though, and for anyone concerned, I'm ok.

Lots of things happened over the past year. Finally started telling people we eloped (in October of '06), started coaching along with my husband for a trackday organization, got my racing license and won a Championship, which was totally an opportunistic win, gotten just for showing up (I'll explain later... maybe), and started looking to buy a house.

That last item is sort of why I'm scraping off the crusties on this blog. After reading several house-blogs, if we get the house we put an offer in on last week, we'll have some stories to tell. It wont be as exciting as buying a haunted house for a dollar and then moving it, living in Morocco (so much envy - I have wanted to see Morocco for a very long time now, reviving a crack house or dealing with carpets soaked in pee - but it's still going to be a lot of work. Keep your fingers crossed.

For the time being I'm obsessing about kitchen cabinets, appliances, flooring materials, researching plaster vs. gut and drywall, rain barrels, painting aluminum siding, and natural prairie landscaping. Eeps!

The Better Place

I was just thinking, that I envy people of strong religious faith sometimes. It gets a little tricky when your own convictions are wishy-washy at best, coming from a childhood of church and Sunday school, but never having it be an overwhelming theme. No prayers at meals or bedtime, no threats of judgement. It was just something you did on weekends, being a religion far more liberal than most. Then you grow up and questions are asked and your beliefs fall more in line with being about a vague sense of energy and connectedness in the universe, that your upbringing was just one way of describing and packaging all of that.

I have envy because even though I feel a sense of connectedness still to my mom, not really a presence, but... some sense of her, I don't know what that means. I have envy because it would be nice to be able to say "she's in a better place, and she's looking down and watching over us and can hear our thoughts and prayers" and that's what that "sense" of her is, I just don't have that kind of faith. I can't commit fully to any thought other than what I've seen. That she suffered through an awful disease, finally let go, had her body burnt up and sealed in a crypt in a brass urn, and she's just... gone. I have envy that people can get comfort from their faith dispite those awful thoughts.

The place where she's buried, I saw something I'd never seen before. Urns on display. For a much higher fee than the outdoor marble crypts, one can have their remains displayed in glass fronted cabinets in a climate controlled chapel. The sight of this all at once interested and repulsed me. I liked the idea of having a diorama like display of a persons interests and life. Better to remember them by. You learned a lot more about the person laid to rest there when there was a photo included, or some small remnant of a hobby, like the vintage stork sewing scissors I have a replica of in one of the cases, but then at the same time it was somewhat eerie. Like some form of preservation, not unlike being frozen. I can't help but think I'd much rather be put straight in the ground, or cremated and spread someplace. My mom hated the idea of being buried, but I have to say if I'm going to beleive in the universe and the connectedness of everything, then it makes more sense that I be turned into dirt to grow new things.

Can she hear me when I tell her I'm sorry? That I appologize that I couldn't hug her or give her any words of hope her last night, instead of sitting there for hours watching her breathe as she slept, hoping she wasn't in pain and that hearing my dad and I talking could give her some small amount of comfort. That she was right, that I should have called more, and stopped in more often.

Whether or not she's looking down on us in the afterlife, being reincarnated, a part of the universe, or only living as a memory for everyone who knew her, if she was never going to recover, she is in a better place, I just wish she hadn't gone there so soon.

My Underpants are Haunting Me

It's the third time in two months. The third time my underpants have haunted me.

The first time was almost expected, there's always something unfortunate hiding under the bed. In this instance it was a pair of fuschia boy-cut underpants under the mattress on the floor that made their presence known when a friend and his friend were helping me move some furniture around. Embarrassing, but nothing tragic. I mean, they're underpants. Big deal. The weird thing is that I'm not one to really wear a lot of pink, so it almost seemed like I had a dirty little secret exposed: I have pink undergarments. *Gasp*

The second underpants haunting happened when making up a bed for a friend who was visiting for the weekend. I pulled clean sheets out of the linen closet, threw the fitted sheet onto the guest bed in full view of the guest, and out flew a black pair of underpants. Again, they were boy-cut and this time in no way revealing of my inner secrets. I believe I yelled something to the effect of "not again", grabbed them, and ran away. As an isolated incident, this wouldn't have been a big deal, but this being the second time in a few weeks of my underpants showing up at inopportune moments, I was starting to suspect my under garments were up to something.

Now we get to this past Sunday. Brunch with friends/soccer teammates. This time we were out in public, and I'm desperately hoping that no one noticed besides me, that a pair underpants decided to come to brunch with us. About halfway through my scrambled eggs I reached down to my purse to check my phone, and laying on top of my purse there they were, black thong underpants. I was horrified. They were well out of sight, but how did they get there?? They must have traveled along, stuck to the sleeve of my black sweater, and fallen off at some point. I shoved them into my purse and started laughing.

My unmentionables are trying to tell me something. This morning, my new favorite bra broke while I was putting it on, and on the drive to work I swore there was something slightly silky hiding in my pants leg. I'm not sure what to do. How to you exorcise underpant demons?

Sockmonkey, a Photo Story

The Sockmonkey Lives! Not only did I sell the two premade suits I had on-hand, but I've got a couple orders for more, and hear of one woman in CA who made the suit and won a costume contest! Hurrah! My original prototype suit made the rounds as one friend borrowed it for a party, and I made Christian wear it while he accompanied me to a couple of fire spinning gigs.

I did it for his own good, as he gets cold easily and I knew we would be outside a lot. He wasn't really into the idea at first, but by the end of the night was totally digging it. Unfortunately we had to leave one gig to go to another, which turned out to be a bust. It's unfortunate because I'm sure he would have won a costume prize. Ah well. Not really fair to recycle the same costume year after year I suppose.

The friend that borrowed the suit a week earlier nearly won the contest at the party he attended, but was beat out by a guy in a naughty nurse costume who got a flat tire on the way to the party, and had two cops stop to offer help. Eesh.

Anyway, here's Christian, dressed up as a sockmonkey, dressed up as a pirate, playing pool, and kicking my ass at it.

Setting up for the break:


Chalking up. (actually, red chalk and white knits are not a good combo)


Yes, yes he's calling the shot, corner pocket. Show off.



One handed, nearly blind, and he still made the shot.


He has since given me a good lesson in pool. I'm still terrible at it, but at least have a better understanding of how to make the balls go where they're supposed to, instead of just whacking at them like I used to.

Theme of Bigger Bikes

So a couple weeks after riding an inline four for the first time, I was given the opportunity to ride one on the track. The idea was a little daunting since the TrackHawk is a fairly easy, low powered bike to ride compared to something like a race prepped inline 600. It turned out to be not so bad. Didn't get to the scary lean angle I've acheived on the TrackHawk, but by the end of two days, I was pretty comfortable and happy on the R6. The TrackHawk apparently has been sold, and so now I'm on the lookout over winter for a new track bike. I have no idea what to look for though, another Hawk? An SV650? Maybe an inline 600?

2000 Miles - Part Three

Or, Does This Bike Make Me Look Fat?

Lunatic Fringer Ross found this pic of me going 5mph through Deal's Gap on the Barcalounger on the way back from Georgia.

I think it makes me look old and fat. It's more the jacket than the bike really, fancy new Cortech purchased at She Rides so that if it was cold on the way back I wouldn't freeze to death again. There was a guy behind us that had let us pass, and sever hours later he caught up to us again on the freeway, and followed us off at a gas station to "meet the chick on the FJR". I found this humorous, and it was kind of a theme, you get more props as a girl on a big fat bike than on a little sporty one.

Anyway, this was all several weeks ago, and many of the details are lost already. It was a fun trip though. Not sure I want to ride long distance again for a while, at least not without the proper equipment, but at least for now the Cortech might get some use if I can get my hands on a dirtbike and go ice racing this winter. Woo!

Here's what I posted to the Lunatic Fringers when I got back:

Haaarr... yeah, never made it to a coffee shop for internet access last night.

Did some errands and cooked up the only thing in my house: grilled cheese and tomato soup. That gallon of milk is doing something scary. (Richard and Harm know about my butch fridge situation. It contains nothing but condiments and beer, (although they're fancy condiments, and really good beer) along with the occasional take out container and tupperware containers of leftovers from Harm. I bought a gallon of milk a couple weeks ago, and that turned out to be a huge mistake.) Also ended up drinking 3/4's of a bottle of wine which put me straight to sleep.

The ride back was great in comparison to the ride down in the rain. I was seriously doubting any future long distance trips on Thursday, and it wasn't because of the bike. The Monster was actually totally comfortable. The only thing that was really sore were my shoulderblades. The airhawk probably saved it, and if I would have planned better and had my leathers, I probably wouldn't have been so miserable in the cold. If nothing else, it forced me to buy better gear. I love that coat, although the fact that it's puffy, and the squeaky boots make me think I should be hauling a snowboard around instead of getting on a bike.

I kind of expected Deal's Gap to suck so it wasn't really much of a letdown. Wasn't wanting to go fast on the Barcalounger anyway, although by the time I got back to the Mil I was pretty comfortable riding it and pushing it around on tip-toes. I wouldn't balk at having to ride one again for sure, but I don't think I really want one either. I don't think I'd ride it enough. Something medium sized would be good. Had the realization at some point on the way back that it's the first inline four I've ever ridden though, everything else has been a single, twin, or the viffer.

127 was a super nice road through TN and KY up to Lexington, along with whatever that "straight" road was that was supposed to get us to the freeway outside of the city. It's too bad it was too dark by then to see it.

For all the Lewis Black fans, Jay and I ended up at the Cracker Fuck Barrel for dinner. I swear walking into those places makes my eyes burn.

Monday morning I headed up 421 to Indianapolis, splitting between Cincinnati and Louisville, and I'm really glad I did. Nice and curvy through Kentucky, lots of zen riding alone on the Barcalounger. I was a little nervous about riding alone on "not my bike", but it really ended up being pretty cool. I say that I hate people, or am not really a people person, but for some reason really love the random conversations you get into with random people when you're on a bike (which can be good and bad).

The second half of 421 kind of blew though, and by the time I hit Indy I just wanted to get home, and realized I needed to get home in time to pick up my leathers before Alexa (http://www.spyderleatherworks.com - she fucking rocks. Seriously, she's the bee's knees, and she's got a super hot daughter that races in CCS. If you need leathers worked on, send them to her.) headed out of town.

Anyway, much love and thanks to the Vocaire's for the lodging, pancakes, and salsa, and to T for trailering the Hawk down for me. I was really glad to get to ride it a little bit there. I dunno, I'm happy doing a couple cooler runs and then just socializing, although yeah, moving the location and hitting less crowded roads would be cool too. I'm super happy Babs was able to make it, and if Richard, Harmony, and T all end up in Charlotte in a couple years Keener, y'all will have a lot more of like minded souls in the neighborhood.

I'm off of Monsters now, and back into the Hawk. Maybe it's all the track time spent on one, but it just feels... right. I mean, the Monster was super fun and all, and I'd still think about robbing a laundromat to buy the S4 when Richard gets it, (uh, I still want to talk you into trading for the 325 and some cash) but I want to keep the Hawk. So, the SleeperHawk project begins.