Tuesday, October 31, 2006

I will welcome the rain, the cold, anything to wash down this convulsed atmosphere. Rain will melt the edges, slick the rough surfaces, calm the hurricane and maybe even bring my appetite back.

Okay, that was random.

I'm still watching the craigslist parade, watching and waiting for that perfect deal on a mid-80's Suzuki 500cc naked-frame. Less-than-perfect options march by, an '89 Honda CBR F1 that's been lowsided and has 51,000 miles, an '82 Honda 550 that's hardly been ridden, sundry and divers 250's, and then there was that '83 GS1100E that Howdy had. I was a bit taken with it, actually. In spite of it's wretched-excess bulging-valve-covers four cylinder massiveness and expected 35 mpg, it was clean, a burnt-orange color, and looked pretty damn comfortable. I wouldn't mind putting away a few freeway miles astride that beast. The question is, would I mind filling up as often as your average Geo Metro driver....

But I'm getting impatient now. I have a thesis to work on, and I don't have the time to always have motorcycle shopping in the back of my head. I just want to get a bike and a cover and luggage and park it and not think about it. I need to think about other more important things.

Friday, October 27, 2006



I got me a lid.

And so it begins...

MSF course starts next Wednesday.

I still haven't found a bike. Apparently 450-500 CC's go like hotcakes here in SoCal. A 250 is just too small for me, and an 1100 is too damn big and wasteful. Where's my happy medium?!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The coffee shop somehow seemed far too noisy and bright, even from my corner underneath the potted plants. The misty darkness outside looked inviting and comforting, so I wandered out into the cold. Hands jammed into pockets, I slogged across the muddy lawn, mind sliding on three inches of cloudy ice into a blurry snowbank. Two hours of Hegel, two other hours of not looking anyone in the eye in a crowded room, I was tired of it, tired of people, tired of all the nameless things that remain nameless because I have no more energy to give them shape.

There were only five cigars left in the box. I dimly remembered Kakashi's voice echoing into my sleepfogged ears: i'm grabbing one, and my reply, you're buying the next box, and his rejoinder, i don't care.

I couldn't sit down anywhere though. I hate it when I can't sit down and have a peaceful smoke. This is my campus, dammit. I've been here four years, literally, and I should be able to sit wherever the hell I please. . Apparently I wasn't the only one who found the night an inviting place to be; there were people everywhere in the dark. Voices of couples whispering and giggling followed my back as I crept restlessly from darkened bench to darkened bench. I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

I finally sat down on a relatively deserted, dimly lit flight of steps and sucked on my cigar for a while. Eventually the mist began to soak into the back of my collar, and determinate shapes began to soak into my mind. The slick feel of the remote on my car keys as I placed it into John's hand, the aged-leaf feel of the monstrous wad of twenties I got in return, a day later. It's going to hit me sooner or later. I know it will. I no longer own a car. I no longer possess a possession that I sank heart and soul into getting and keeping for five years, and WHY THE HELL DOESN'T IT MAKE A DENT? Why does it seem like Nighthawk's only sleeping as they pull the sheet up over her clay wings? Why am I sitting here staring vacuously out into the fog, still sliding over the ice, three inches of protection between me and any disaster in the world?

(I still don't feel very intelligent.)

Monday, October 16, 2006

I'll write up something soon. I promise...stuff has happened, my life is different, and I'm not used to it.

(That didn't sound very intelligent.)

(I don't feel very intelligent.)

(Maybe I better post tomorrow.)

(Yeah.)

Monday, October 09, 2006

I need to find a good motorcycle helmet and appropriate armor. Was planning on heading down to CalCoast Motorsports this afternoon to check out such. I'm really on the fence about colors. My favorite color is glowing blood-red, but flame orange or yellow is going to be more visible, and therefore more safe. Is my vanity a worthy tradeoff for safety? Do I really care?

This is SoCal, remember. There are more cars than people and more people than roadspace.

But yellow is such a painful color...

Thursday, October 05, 2006

I turned in my thesis proposal at 9 pm last night. If I wasn't such a lazy bastard I would have had that done a week ago and my conscience would have lain in peace for a whole week, and I would be that much less ragged today...I just don't know what's good for me.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

overpass walls glow dusty in my insect-yellowed brights
graffiti tangles boldly with mirages from the day

I hear the cold wind rushing lulling me to sleep
I hear the engine breathing rushing me to death

I snap wide with a jerk the car's across the road
mountain fills the window frame terror fills my blood

I hear the cold wind rushing keening through the rift
fingers stiff and shoulders straight and glass driven deep

overpass walls glow dusty in their insect-yellowed brights
graffiti tangles boldly with strobes and blue and red