Category Archives: Motorcycles

I Believe…

Posted on 3 September 2009 | 4 comments
  1. people are inherently good.
  2. in smelling flowers.
  3. in watching butterflies.
  4. that if everyone rode a motorcycle, we would be a much more peaceful planet.
  5. in God.
  6. tattoos make skin beautiful.
  7. in sleeping for at least 9 hours each night.
  8. that tragedies happen for a reason.
  9. that we should share what we have with people who don’t have as much.
  10. in feeding homeless people.
  11. people live the best in community.
  12. in running.
  13. reading helps us to understand each other on a deeper level.
  14. what we eat matters.
  15. that beer is good.
  16. everyone should get paid the same amount.
  17. there should be no racism.
  18. that gay people should be allowed to marry.
  19. we should think for ourselves.
  20. people should say please and thank you.
  21. we should revere our elders.
  22. we should train our children up in a calm, guiding manner.
  23. in grace.
  24. people should listen when other people talk.
  25. people should answer the question, “How are you?” with an honest answer.
  26. you should be able to make change out of the offering plate at church.
  27. vanilla malts with frosted flakes and mini marshmallows are next to heaven in loveliness.
  28. I could eat pizza for every meal.
  29. swine flu is a government scare tactic to keep us paranoid.
  30. people should be able to dress comfortably for all occasions.
  31. clothing designers should learn that not all fat women are busty.
  32. we should spend time discussing ideas and not people.
  33. each year people should have to donate their most prized possession to a homeless shelter, domestic violence shelter, or children’s home.
  34. most ill-feelings can be cured by walking in the woods.
  35. squirrels really are out to get us.
  36. when people swim they release their stress into the water with each stroke.
  37. hormones kill brain cells.
  38. most good music was made in the late 60s, early 70s.
  39. diamonds are not a girls best friend.
  40. we should still talk about AIDS and other STDs in health class, and talk about ways other than abstinence to prevent them.
  41. every child deserves a happy childhood, but does not need to be spoiled to accomplish that childhood.
  42. in equal rights for all people.
  43. we throw away too much. We should be more frugal.
  44. Chuck Taylors and Five Fingers are the world’s most perfect shoes.
  45. in gleaning out of dumpsters.

4 Comments

Posted in Beer, Fat, Feminism, Food, Grace, Motorcycles, Politics, Queer, Reading, Relationships, Religion, Running, School, Teaching, Writing

Roseanne and J. Alfred Prufrock

Posted on 6 March 2009 | 3 comments

At this point, your guess about why I am up at 4 AM watching reruns of Roseanne is as good as mine. I suppose there are worse things I could be doing right now than watching Darlene and Becky banter across the old brown couch. I forgot how funny the early episodes are, and I forgot how much they remind me of my family. Before the show started taking itself so seriously and before Tom Arnold came into the picture, it was a beautiful simply complex portrayal of blue-collar life in Lansford, a town not unlike Hartford City.

I am watching an early episode in which Jackie and Booker start dating. Most of the episode is filmed in a bowling alley, and the subplot is Becky’s first rendezvous with Chip. I remember why I love Darlene (Sara Gilbert). I think I might have wished she lived in Hartford City.  I look back now and think that she reminds me of my friend, Tisha: sarcastic, smart, and a little feisty. My life is better for knowing Tish.

I woke up at 3 AM—I laid in the bed for about 45 minutes before I gave in and finally got up—in order to begin memorizing “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” I am sure Bec will be thrilled that I am trying to memorize another poem. I think she got her fill of “A Supermarket in California.” I can’t imagine I woke up so early for T.S. Eliot, although the beauty of the poem does not escape me. Here is the opening, a loose interpretation of a sonnet:

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

I am sure my early morning can be attributed to the stress of the coming two weeks. Or the stress of the next few months. I am take my comprehensive exams in August. While I realized they were looming around the corner like a teenage tranny at RuPaul’s dressing room door, making my book list and going over it with Debbie yesterday really hammered it home. I have six months to prepare for the biggest test of my life. And I have to pass it.

Because I have to break up my serious study time into small chunks, I tend to spend a lot of time stumbling around on the Internet. I have decided to stop calling it procrastinating, because I have learned some interesting facts and been able to find some helpful websites during these mini-breaks. I found this site last night. I couldn’t resist reading some of the other posts on the blog, but the one I originally stumbled onto was the best. This morning I found this: F*** My Life. You, the viewer, actually get to vote: does the person’s life really suck or did they deserve what happened? Genius.

It’s now 4:44 and the episode that’s on—Dan wants to get a family photo to send into their high school reunion committee and it just so happened that when he and Roseanne broke up for a week their senior year, he slept with the woman who is organizing the reunion—reminds me of how I feel about high school reunions: they are a mechanism by which some people reassure themselves that their lives turned out better than others. I am not sure this is how reunions function for my class. Maybe I am naive. Maybe when I finally get my PhD, I will go back to a reunion. Maybe I won’t.

I had a couple of good beers last night with my delicious chicken etouffee.  The first one was an oldie but goody: Skullsplitter Scotch Ale. I am finding that I really love Scotch Ales. They have some body and nice complex taste. I also had a nice Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout. Usually, okay sometimes, Chocolate Stouts are too sweet, but this one was particularly tasty with some nice coffee undertones. Brooklyn’s was the chocolate equivalent of Breckenridge’s Vanilla Porter.  I would drink it again. And again with HomeMade Peppermint Chip Ice Cream.

Maybe I am awake so early today because I am excited to get Minerva out of the garage, give her a bath, fill her up, check her tire pressure, and ride her all over the countryside. I mean I can’t go too far today, but I a girl can dream (funny Freudian slip I accidentally typed cream to begin with). I have until one o’clock when I am supposed to meet Julie at the Blue Bottle for coffee. Maybe I can talk her into beer at the Heorot.

Adult swim is really weird at 5 AM. Is it idiotic or genius? Frequently, the line is very fine, like one pixel fine.  And, I think Drew’s cat pooped over by the fish tank again. This is why I don’t get up early as a rule. This is why I am glad we are going to pull up this carpet this summer.

Oh, and I cut my hair last night.

Also this.

3 Comments

Posted in Beer, Literature, Motorcycles, Reading, School