Once you get a Harley, you don't even need a relationship

Last weekend I checked off something on my before I'm thirty list.
I got my motorcycle license.
Ta da!

I signed up for a class with Team Arizona Ride, despite it's cheesy name. I paid a ridicules amount of money for three days of classroom and actual riding training that resulted in my motorcycle endorsement. I've been trying to find time to do this class for a year. So when I realized my classroom training for work would leave me with a rare Friday, Saturday, Sunday off I realized this was my chance. However, I may have over booked myself.

The Saturday before I worked a 12 hour day. Sunday I worked a 14 hour day. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I worked 11 hour days. Thursday was a bit of a break, meaning I worked 7 hours, then hightailed it over to the first section of my day. Which turned out to be more classroom. 4 hours to be exact.

We learned a lot about motorcycles. Which should have been interesting. Except the instructor was.. off. I'm not sure how to explain it exactly. He was in his sixties, kind of grandfatherly type. He obviously knew his stuff, and he made semi funny jokes throughout the class. It should have been bearable. It wasn't, it was painful. I spent about three hours trying to figure out why. Cause that's what I do. I finally decided he was lacking charisma. Which then lead to a very interesting thought process in my head about how someone becomes charsmatic. Which was was totally wasted because it was all in my head and not an actual conversation.

We had Friday off, then up bright and Fucking early Saturday for riding. See in Arizona it is freakin hot in the summer. So they figured making us wake up early we could maybe beat some of the heat. Luck for us it's monsoon season. Saturday morning was cloudy and cool. I rode a 250 Yamaha Star. It wasn't love, but she wasn't a bad choice for a weekend fling. Four hours of riding in that gorgeous weather... Even the awkward instructor couldn't ruin my day. What almost ruined my day? I had a bit of an accident. Just a teeny tiny one.

See we were learning quick stops. You know, in case a car turns in front of you suddenly. Well, I like going fast. The instructors had nicknamed me Speed Demon. Naturally I was practicing sudden my quick stops really really fast. After a few decent stops, I tried to stop even faster. And I did. All the instructer could say was wow. My ego swelled. So my next one... well I was going for the record. What I got was my front tire wobbling and me and the bike skidding on the asphalt.
Since I'm writing this, obviously I'm fine. I got a little road rash on my arm, a giant bruise on my inner thigh and knee. More seriously was the damage done to my favorite pair of jeans and boots.
Oh, and the bike was fine. Not even a scratch on her. Guess I broke her fall.

But then we went in for more classroom training. Believe it or not, it got worse. The instructor would explain something. Then we would read about it from our manuals. Then we would a video that would explain it again. At this point the euphemism wore off and angry "I've gotten up too early too many days in a row" Sam came out. I spent four hours trying to blow up the instructor with my mind. I swear if I had thirty more minutes I would have accomplished it.
Instead I took a written test, missed two questions and passed for the first part of my license.

Sunday, day three. Five hours of riding. Then a "celebration of our knowledge". Also known as a test.
I wasn't nervous about the test, aside from the quick stop failure, I had been riding really well yesterday. I climb onto the bike and suddenly my stomach drops. Everyone else is starting up their bikes and I'm frozen. It was a really bad time to realize that my fall the day before had scared me more then I thought.
There was about ten seconds where I honestly didn't know if I could finish out the day. Or start out the day.
Thank Hera I'm stubborn.
I started up my bike.
The first exercise was U Turns.
Do you know how freaking hard U Turns are?
They are freaking hard.
Especially if you had fallen the day before.

I nearly failed the class right there.
Thank Hera I'm stubborn.

I made it through the day. I got over my fear, passed the rest of the exercises perfectly.

Those of us who passed were herded into the classroom to fill out paperwork. The instructor handed out our endorsements one by one. He must have gotten the whole trying to blow him up with my mind vibe because he made me wait very last. Which didn't earn my love.
But I finally received my paperwork.

Now I just need a motorcycle.

Man's best friend? Sam's best friend

I'm one of those people now.
The boy and I have had Bodhi for about a month now.
I wouldn't say that my life revolves around him.. but I'm not too far away from it.

I take pictures of him. A lot.
The whole "no getting up on the couch" rule... lasted 2 hours. However it was The Boy who invited Bodhi onto the couch that first time. Not me.
Now we take naps together. The three of us.
There was a huge storm last week. I fell asleep on the couch while The Boy watched TV. I woke up to Bodhi sleeping between us, like the little kid who crawled into his parents bed cause he got scared.
Ahhh

I love taking him hiking. Or just taking him on walks. Especially with the summer monsoons. A friend of mine likes to enjoy the storms by sitting on his porch with a cigar and his book. Me? I love walking into the heart of it with Bodhi obliviously sniffs the ground.

And he is oblivious. Completely soo. My poor dog isn't very good at being a dog. He thought he was a bunny when he was a puppy, and it clearly shows now that he's 2 1/2 years old. Bodhi is an Australian Shepard. He's very good at herding. The first time I took him running with The Boy and I, he kept cutting off The Boy from getting ahead of me. But he is not a hunting dog. When we go on walks, he sniffs the ground, but I'm fairly positive that he doesn't know what he's smelling, or even where to smell. He just kind of walks around with his nose on the ground and then will suddenly stop so people will think he found something. But he doesn't smell obvious places, like trees or fire hydrants. In fact, he doesn't even pee on trees or fire hydrants.
It's ok, I love him anyways.

We also love going to the dog park. And I do mean We.
Bodhi runs around the dog park, kinda like the slow kid. He has a lot of fun, but is clearly socially slow. He just doesn't really know how to interact or play with other dogs. But he likes other dogs, so he'll run up to a dog he's interested in, and then freeze with just his tail wagging. They'll do the whole sniff each other greeting and then the other dog will try to play with him. And Bodhi just keeps standing there, frozen. Maybe if I keep bringing him to the dog park he'll eventually learn. Or maybe I'll have to put him into a special school or something.

He doesn't care too much for the size of the apartment. But then neither do I. He knows the difference between his ball and his rope. And no, that's not a euphemism. And when I'm getting ready for the day he'll take his rope in his mouth, then toss his head really hard, which sends the rope flying a few feet. Then he'll run to it and pounce on it. Basically he's playing fetch with himself. My smart dog. He chews the shit out his rope, which means there is string all over my apartment. But he doesn't chew on furniture or dig threw the couch, so I'm mostly ok with all the string.

So yeah, I'm one of those people now. My dog is my baby. I take pictures of him. We go get ice cream together (diet? what diet? Oh hello 2 extra pounds..), we cuddle on the couch while watching So You Think You Can Dance (don't judge me). We both give The Boy puppy dog eyes when we want to go outside and he wants to watch tv.

And within the next five years, he'll hike the Appalachian Trail with me.

To Sum up

-No, you don't understand love, Sweets.
-You have this bourgeois notion...
-...that in order for love to be real it has to be permanent. Nothing is permanent. That's just a fact. We move in and out of loving other people, but that doesn't make the love any less real.
-And it's not because I haven't met the love of my life.
-I have actually. Many times.

Every Man is an Island

It's been one of those days. I've been sleep deprived, over worked and the drama that is threatening to spill over into my apartment has caused me to hole up on my couch for the last day and a half. I came home from work yesterday, plopped down onto my couch/nest and officially declared it a drama free zone.

Prior to all the drama, I was on the verge of writing a sappy blog about how I love all my friends. I have spent the last two weeks going out every night or having intimate evenings with my favorites. And in the last few months the numbers of my favorites has exploded. The Boy and I have been positively Gatsby social.
But the drama of Wednesday y morning was too much. And so I've hermitted myself away.

My new friend Tyr gave me 58 days worth of new music. Which only added to my sudden, fierce need to be alone. I made a trip to my favorite used bookstore, the one that has floor to ceiling bookshelves and a secret passage if I only knew which book to pull. I stocked up on books, plugged in Jackson and all his new fabulous music and shut out the world.

It's been lovely.

Bodhi has been the only social interaction I've has today. Despite the heat, we've still gone on long walks, which I completely enjoy. I could walk for hours. So could Bodhi. We're a good match.

Music, books, dog and couch. That's how I've spent all of today.

As always, when I have days that I spend all day in the lovesac of my mind I start to self analyze. Today, I marveled at the walking contradiction that I am.

I am an introvert who is completely infatuated with people.
I'm extremely laid back with a stubborn streak.
I am an adrenaline junkie who does well with routine.
I hate chick flicks but love John Mayer and Ani Defranco.
I want to make a difference in this world but won't touch politics with a ten foot pole/
I loathe the gym but love being active.

And that's just to name a few.

Another self discovery?
I am not a fan of chick flicks. Seriously. It's one of the few genre as a whole that I dislike. I don't even like romantic comedy's. I've given up trying to go see chick flicks because it's been 5+ years since I've seen one that I half way liked. I just can't suspend my disbelief for the whole "love conquers all" swill. this probably isn't the actors or screenwriter faults. I just can't make myself believe that the bad boy who has never treated a woman decently will suddenly change because SHE walked into his life. Well, I could go on and on about all the things i find hard to swallow in chick flicks.

However.

I totally love action movies. Horror, action.. love them. I can suspend my disbelief completely while watching an action film. Guy gets shot through the heart and still manages to kill the bad guy while flying a plane? Of course he can! 100 pound heroine beats the shit out of six foot five bad guy? Absolutley.

Then I had a thought. I've been laughing at all those girls who watch chick flicks and are waiting for their true love to wake them with a kiss out of their lonely lives. All those girls chanting "edward' in their sleep. I've looked down from my high horse and smirked at their naivety. Prince Charming isn't going to come for them. Relationships take a lot of work. Silly girls who watch to many chick flicks.

And that's when I realized. I may not believe in chick flicks. But I believe in action movies with my whole heart. I fully believe and expect the zombie apocalypse to happen any freakin day now. This yearning, this wanderlust that I feel is directly tied to all the movies and books I read. When I travel I don't spend my time in museums. I'm climbing the ruins by the side of the road, I'm falling into waterfalls. I'm sleeping on beaches and narrowly catching trains back into town. I laugh at the girls who believe in love at first sight and yet I fully believe that one day I will get to live like Lara Craft or Indiana Jones.

Shit.
Guess I'll tenderly climb down from my high horse.

Long Winded Explainations

I've found that in the early morning hours, normally after the 3am mark, conversation becomes more.. personal, fearless and open. During one of these conversations at work one of my co-workers blindsided me with this statement -

"Just because you have an anchor tattooed on your foot doesn't mean you've changed your nature"

And I thought "he's right"
Shit


He also asked why I'm here.
Meaning: Why am I in Arizona?
Why Tempe?
Why this job?

Valid questions.
One I get asked a lot actually.

1) I've lived poor before. I've lived poor often. There was the year I was saving for school in Ireland. I worked doubles at a restaurant and lived off the bread dipped in salad dressing from there. Or the year I got back from Ireland and came home completely broke. Or the summer I spent in Utah. Or the year I got back from Hawaii, once again completely broke. (see a pattern?) Living paycheck to paycheck sucks. Traveling is expensive. Staying in one place is expensive. And I don't have the cushion of rich parents. There's no safety net if shit goes bad.Mommy and Daddy don't have a way to fly me home. I learned that the hard way when living in Hawaii turned south.

2) 2 years ago I met this fabulous wandering soul. Let's call her Carol. Carol worked under me at a entry level job that payed 12 dollars an hour. Which worked for me because I was twenty one. Carol was mid forty's. Carol and I instantly bonded. She had lived a fascinating life. At one point she was a truck driver just so she could reach her goal of seeing all fifty states. But she was also a huge neon warning sign for me. Because as enviable her early life was, now she was a forty year old women with a kid, a husband she didn't like and a job working under a cocky twenty year old. She was miserable. More miserable then me. Which was a lot. I told myself never to forget Carol, or the lesson she taught me. I'm not going to be her.

3) This one pains me to admit. I like to think of myself as a strong, fearless female. Which I mostly am. Unless it involves spiders or meeting the boyfriends parents. But there is the reality that a female alone in a foreign country is...well... dangerous. While a male can run into the same problems as a lonely female, they aren't as likely to be seen as a target. Women are cast into the victim role a lot easier. And after two bad experiences while traveling by myself... I decided not to tempt fate anymore. So when I travel again it will be with someone, or through school, or through a job. Something with a friend or a network of people.

4) And why Arizona? Why this job? I've seen a lot of the U.S. It's beautiful. But nothing I've seen so far had any pull on me to live there the way living abroad does. So why not here? I've got friends here, and I love my job. It's a rare combination of enjoying what I do and getting paid really well. So why not?

There, all my reasoning and excuses tied up in one nice neat bundle.

Bottom line though?
If I win the lottery - gone
If someone wants to join me - gone baby gone

Total Girl Moment

I don't care how girly I sound.
I want these.
Lusting for these.
Need these.

NOW You Can Call It Home

You remember Bodhi don't you?

He's made a few guest appearances on this blog, showing up in pictures from hiking fossil springs, and mentioned while talking about camelback or south mountain. Up until a week ago he was my mom's dog that she rented out to me.

A week ago my mom who has been planning a move to Cali for the last few months, calls me up at 2am.

"help, I just realized I don't have anywhere for Bodhi to go. Can you take him?"
"........."


So now the Boy and I have a dog.
To be precise, we have an Australian Shepherd. In a one bedroom apartment.
Oh yeah, this can't go wrong.

Turns out, we're both bleeding hearts. So the dog stays.

So far... it's working out. We both grew up with dogs, so having one in the apartment feels like home. Bodhi has some identity issues, meaning he thinks he's a lapdog, or sometimes he thinks he's a bunny. Either way, TV watching is 10 times better with a fur blanket in your lap. And while the daytime is soooo freakin hot, I've found that walks after dark are delicious. The two of us traverse the apartment complex while the rest of the world sleeps.

A few weeks ago the 13 year old sister tried to give Bodhi a fur cut. That worked about as well as you'd imagine. So when we inherited him, The Boy insisted that Bodhi get a real fur cut. So off to the trusty Petsmart we go. The groomers quote me 2 hours. 4 hours later they call me to pick him up. Apparently Bodhi did not like getting groomed and tried to eat them. Which made me laugh. The groomers glowered at me like a principal trying to explain to a parent that their kid's practical joke was something to be punished, not laughed at.

Oh yeah, I'll make a great parent.