If you are what you eat I'm a delicious hunk of meat.

Fall is soundly here. The rain, the dying leaves, the chill in the air. Is rain a symptom of fall in Virginia? Maybe not. At any rate, my motorcylce is sitting under a wet rain cover. Pretty soon I'll have to winterize the thing and let it sit until spring. Maybe I can run it once or twice a month so I can keep it fresh. I don't like the cold enough for that though I guess.

I'm sitting here in the warm basement with American in Paris playing on TV. I must say, I'm not a fan of the musicals. I kind of wish I could fast forward through the musical parts. Some of the acting doesn't quite work for me either. Why am I watching it then? Well, oh crap, they started singing again. ahem.. well, it's interesting to see the style of old films. I do find some of the situations in the plot (when the music doesn't get in the way) kind of humorous. I figure that watching this crap might clue me in a bit on romance despite the fact that its idealized, unrealistic movie writing.

The more beautiful everything is, the more it hurts without you.

How serious can he be if he does what he knows he shouldn't and doesn't do what he knows he should?

Hey girl, if you would only give me some some sort of sign that you're interested in me, I could very easily fall for you. If we could only lock gaze in that special way I'd drop like dominoes. I'm just not getting that vibe from you so I guess it's still just getting to know you and hoping to meet someone else.

If anyone actually reads this blog (I know of one person) I apologize for the constant drivel and letters to girls that never get sent. I guess it's just my place to vent the most frustrating area of my life. I wish I were writing profound observations about life around me. Instead you get all the crap thoughts I never get around to saying. But... no one's forcing you to read this.

Rock, Rock On!

Now that I have a motorcycle I often find myself thinking about how when I get in a car the first thing I do is fasten my seat belt. I'm usually thinking that when I'm sitting, unattached except by gravity on the seat of my motorcycle, exposed to everything on and around the road. I am filled for a moment with a profound sense of irony.

Of course, I do wear a helmet on the bike, not in the car so maybe there is a balance.

there is no innocence

So I have a motorcyle now. I've had it for a little over a month. I bought the armored jacket and motorcycle gloves and even some motorcycle pants. When wearing all the gear I feel a bit like a dork. Sure on some level I think it feels cool but over all I feel like some bike racer wannabe who's just trying to look cool. The fact is that I'm not trying to look cool. I'm just scared. I wear the gear to keep my skin on my body should I happen to go skidding across the pavement. That and it keeps me warm. My reasons for wearing the stuff isn't to look cool, but for very practical reasons. If you think I look cool in the stuff, that's your problem, not mine.

[sorry, I have no picture to show you what I'm talking about right now]