Sabotaged.net

Archive for October, 2006

I can’t make this sort of thing up

My co-worker just started off one of her many stories as, “Some sneezes are so memorable…”

After several minutes of sneezey descriptions - scary sneezes, funny sneezes, mousy sneezes - her story ended with, “Her sneeze was like a rose sneezing. May she keep that sneeze forever.”

 

How do you respond to something like this? I tend to sit on the other side of the cubical wall, staring blankly at my computer screen.

WWJD?

The premise:

We’re at a friends house. We bring some of Phil’s famous cherry and blueberry pie for everyone to drool over and stuff their faces with. The friend whose house we’re at decided to get sassy with me and said, “Get me some pie, woman!”

Naturally, my reaction was, “kiss my ass.” I said it plainly, expecting him to change the subject quickly. Much to everyone’s surprise, his wife jumped in and said, “Yeah, kiss her ass!” This got an eyebrow raise from said friend. Everyone stopped what they were doing as I turned my back toward him and pushed my tush out.

He’s a financial advisor and you could see him frantically calculating the possible outcomes. He could get some pie. He could get smacked by his wife. He would get to rest his lips upon my tight-fitting jean mini-skirt. My boyfriend might take offense. He could find out what he’s been missing all this time.

In the end, he got  some cherry pie.

Warmth is gone. Must plan for Winter.

Summer is long gone at this point. Each working day for the past few weeks has started off with a icy ride into work. Thermometers in the thirties. Two pairs of gloves, four layers up top, three layers down below and a skull cap under my helmet.

Today it was 27 degrees out with a “feels like” temperature of 24. I opted for a knee-length skirt, gloves, my leather coat, and a car-ride into town. I imagine my riding days have come to a quick end and that I’ll start disassembling my bike after November 4th.

 If money flows correctly, the bike’s winter modifications will include:

• New brake pads on the front end
• Matching OEM clip-ons (currently, I have a Vortex clip-on and an OEM clip-on)
• A new OEM rear set on the clutch-side (the current one is torn up from when it was wrecked prior to me purchasing it)
• Some new exhaust cans, even if they’re just plain OEM ones. The ones on there right now, have been dinged, scraped, and one has a good hole in it from being wrecked prior to my ownership.
• A new solo-cowl. Mine disappeared one day.
• A new face-plate on the guages. Mine were broken by some asshole in our old Shop.
• Standard oil & filter change.
• Perhaps new sprockets. I’m somewhat doubtful on this one.
• A new paint job. I’m VERY bored with my current black/silver/maroon scheme. Plus, it needs repainting from being laid on it’s side in my work parking lot (while I was in working, no less).

If I were rich, I would have new high-mount exhaust, new sprockets, new rotors, aftermarket rearsets and a new racebike.  However, I have to consider that I need new brakes and rotors on the front end of my car, and a new half-shaft on the driver’s side. The Focus has been racking up the milage, cliking over 115k recently. We’ve already replaced a few bits and pieces, but there is still more to be done. In my spare time, I still hope to find a way to squeeze a jet engine under the hood.

The past two years we had a large brick’n'motor building we were renting space out of. When the snow rolled in, we had groups of friends over with various projects to work on - mostly motorcycles, occasionally pocket bikes, frequently cars, and constantly cases of beer to be emptied. I’m hoping that we’ll soon have Phil’s li’l go-go car finished up and that we’ll continue the tradition in our freshly emptied garage. The hardest part will be talking friends into traveling an extra fifteen miles to our place, rather than our old shop.

Welcome to My Hell

A day full of rain and a night of clear skies brought us into the high 20s last night. The pups got to sleep in the garage on a stack of blankets. The thermostat in my hallway was flipped to “heat”.

The choke was pulled way out when I started the bike this morning. It wanted to fight me a bit, but turned over after a second try and squeeled with high RMPs while warming up. I suppose its time for me to change my oil. It has just about 10,000 miles on it since it was last dumped and refreshed. I know the bike doesn’t want to run with that thick cold stuff hugging the bottom of the engine.

I was as warm as I could be with long johns under my jeans, a neoprene high-neck shirt and a sweatshirt under my leather jacket. My eyes watered as I putzed through my one horse town with my visor open. The Carbondale State Bank’s lighted sign said it was 31 degrees.

This windchill index shows that if the temperature is 31 and the winds are blowing at 90mph (well, that was the speed I was moving once on the highway … I figure the air is still moving past me as though its blowing and I’m standing still), then it feels like 8.8 degrees (F) or -12.9 (C). My fingertips will agree with that assesment.

It’s a straight shot from my home to my work. If I tuck down in enough, I can nearly fit my entire helmet behind my windscreen, also known as The Plastic Savior From The Cold. In this position, I can keep the wind from sucking up into my helmet, freezing my lips, my ears, and my snot. I shimmy my left hand down into my bike, between the fairing and the frame, right next to one of the radiators. My right hand just has to take it. My Icon gloves leave little to no protection from the cold - but at least they’re flashy.

As I get into town, I start furiously moving my hands. After riding those 16 miles, my fingers refuse to respond in a timely fashion. They take their sweet time and I’m worried about having to let go of the throttle and using the clutch. While barreling down the exit ramp, I slide my right hand off of the clip-on entirely, tuck it behind my right knee and pull the clutch in and out while dropping gears. Once in the turn lane, I am stuck behind a fleet of cars at a red light. Hop off the bike, and stand behind it, each hand behind it’s very own exhaust pipe. I wait as long as possible, letting those bad boys warm up. Light turns green, hop back on the bike, and make a mad dash toward my office. The ass-end did what it could to squirrel around in the black ice in the middle of the intersection. Hold on and slide it ’til it grips. Run the rest of the surface streets quickly. Scream into the parking lot. Barely get the kick stand down. Rush into the building without getting my helmet or gloves off.

This is the painful part. Luckily, the bathroom is right next to the entrance. I bust into there and flip on the hot water. Slowly, my hands come out of my gloves. My skin is bright red, my nails are purple, and I mostly just want to cry. Hesitantly, I put my hands into the water as its gradulaly warming up. My eyes close tight, and I can feel my mouth opening in some sort of a silent scream. God it hurts.

I believe I stood like that for about 4-5 minutes only moving to adjust the temperature in hopes of not going to the other extreme - scalding my hands.

Once my body temperature is back on the rise, I peel off my layers, throw on my business casual gear, and lug my stuff to my desk. Everyone in my office thinks I’m a nut job. Not necessarily just because of this, but also because of the many times I’ve ridden in the rain, the hail, and when we’ve had tornado warnings. But, what they don’t understand is that once my bike is garaged for the winter, I will be dismanteling it (again) for upgrades, more repairs, and a new paint job (yes, another one). That’ll be about three months without it, unless I haphazardly throw it together for a night o’ fun toward the end of the year. They don’t understand that it is the starting point for my slippery slope into a freezing cold depression caused by a winter full of ice, snow, and a lack of my favorite things. With that, I’ll ride ’til I can’t take it anymore.

Most of you know I never left the internet

While difficult to find for the past year, I’ve been around. My haunts have been limited mostly to motorcycle-related websites, along with various other blogging venues (think: livejournal). After missing my site and the time I went producing it, I’ve decided to switch gears and return to my eRoots.

My apologies to those who haven’t been able to locate me during this time. Rest assured, I’m back.