Brooklyn, Baby!

I finally got the kahones to take Daimon into the big city. Really, what's 250 miles? I knew the ride was gonna be beautiful and fun. It wasn't the first 245 miles that scared me. I can't even describe the feeling as I exited the Holland Tunnel and spilled right out into the madness and mayhem that was Canal Street. It was a rush like no other I'd had on the bike. Feeling so small made the experience so big. At any second, I knew I could've become the filling in an automobile sandwich as I maneuvered in between traffic. Shit, if a guy on a freakin 10-speed could do it, I sure as hell was gonna try with 1200cc's between my legs. I wanted to take it all in as best I could, so I lifted the visor of my helmet and took a deep breath. Honestly, it smelled so bad I almost wanted to vomit a little, but all I had to do was get to the Manhattan Bridge and into Brooklyn only a handful of miles before arriving at my destination. Even though I was completely focused on the road and the cars around me, I could feel the weight of the city and the density of the crowds scavenging through cheap sidewalk knock-offs and gawking at sign after sign cluttered with characters I only wish I could read too. I'd been to the NYC many a time, but never like this. There were cops at almost every intersection attempting to direct traffic, and just about every one of them gave me a respectable nod as I cruised along my own personal lane marked by the dashed line that cars are intended to be governed by. I'm not gonna say I was going much faster than 10 miles an hour, but the truth is I did manage to take out a couple of rearview mirrors that protruded into my lane. It's a damn good thing those were designed to fold back.

Finally, I had the Manhattan Bridge in my sights and the intensity of the traffic became a little more bearable. Okay let me just say first, there's this thing I do every time I cross a state line. It's something sort of like a battle cry, but more like a vocal expression of joy and accomplishment. I think I can describe it as something between a "Yee-haw" and a "Woo-Pig" (for those readers from Arkansas, you may be able to understand completely). Anyway, the very moment that my front wheel went past the first bridge support, I just belted out a huge holler, bigger than any single state line crossing battle cry I'd ever allowed to escape my lungs. It felt incredible! And suddenly the cars around me were insignificant to me and my own experience. I wanna say my shout lasted about a quarter of the way along the bridge, and I remember looking around at the city thinking "Damn, I did it!" Now it's important to note that my usual battle cries are never really heard by anyone but me, seeing as how they generally happen on state highways. This time, being in traffic on a warm day in New York City didn't make my screams of joy quite so private. And it wasn't until I looked at the car on my right, that I realized just how loud it must have been. I must say though that there is something extremely poetic about being a newbie biker in the big apple getting a thumb's up from a very large man literally stuffed in the driver's seat of a mini-cooper. At least his carbon footprint was small :)

Driving through New York City on a motorcycle really is as intense as a phat breakbeat!

Time Flies When You Uproot Your Life and Start Anew

Wow, so it's been a good couple of months since I've felt the need for therapy via blog in the form of brain spew. Maybe it's this new sense of peace I've gained. Maybe it's this new flowering love interest ... pfft, yeah I wish. No, maybe it's the fact that the last couple of months has been full of fun in the sun, hundreds of cardboard boxes, and a 1000 mile solo motorcycle trip.

Yes, it's true. I FINALLY got my ass out of the oppressive arms of conservative St. Louis and the corporate office, and into the throws of not so oppressive upstate New York and the union labor environment!
You know what time it is? LIST TIME!

The Lou vs. The 'Cuse from the Perspective of a Big Brown Lesbian Biker:

• Weather – It’s still summertime, so I’m gonna table this comparison until my tropical-by-nature ass is waist deep in snow. At least brown is a good contrast to snowy white, yes?
  
• Vroom Vroom – In the Lou, I know I have more actual riding days overall in a year. But in the ‘Cuse, I can go in any direction and see some beautiful windy roads that are far from the flatness that is the Midwest . Note: It was a hard decision to make, but Nietzsche did NOT make the 1000 mile trip from the Lou to the ‘Cuse with me. Why you ask? It isn’t because he didn’t want to, it’s because I am a true American in every materialist sense of the word. I desired a bigger bike! I tried to keep Nietzsche in the family, attempting to convince my little brother that he needed to learn to ride a bike and that I would sell him one for a sick low price. That didn’t work, so I went to Gateway Harley Davidson, found Daimon (a 1200C that was love at first sight, by the way), rang the Freedom Bell (more on that in another blog entry I promise), and rode out of there with Nietzsche in my rearview mirror. We’ll always have Memphis , my sweet Nietzsche! *sniffles*
  
• Friends – I left a number of good friends in The Lou. They are farther away, but close to my heart. Really, it’s a damn good thing I have friends all over this fine country and across so many state lines, because being in NY has put me in closer proximity to many other friends that I used to have to fly to see. Who loves ya’ Toronto , Pittsburgh , the NYC, etc. etc.
  
• Dating – Again, I probably need to table this comparison until I get my feet wet in the scene here. So far, it seems small. I'm sure you all will get dirt soon ... or shit, I hope so *sigh*
  
• Work -- I couldn't be happier with my situation here. First of all, I'm closer to the beer. Being in the brewery is sooooo much more fun than sitting in a cube farm. Everything from the smells of the brews to the sights of large scale production is really pretty exciting. I most definitely feel more comfortable in a hardhat and boots as opposed to business casual. But I didn't have to tell you guys that, right.
  
• Bars -- Other than the obvious change in the price of a beer, I've already found some spots I like around here. My favorite is The Dinosaur. It's a biker bar/bbq joint. However, being from Arkansas, I know my damn BBQ and I'm picky about it at that. Just as any good Arkansan would tell you, don't joke about the smoke, and you better cook my hog like you make love in the summertime, nice and slow. I drool just thinking about BBQ back home, but The Dinosaur will have to do. It's really the feel of the place that I like, and plus I get to play a tough leather biker chick when I go and pull Daimon up next to the big boys ... hee hee, it's so fun! I could totally walk there because I live so close to it, but what's the fun in that??!!
  

Ah, and so it goes! Jen has made it out of the midwest, huzzah! It's been about 3 weeks now, and my ass has healed fully from the ride. It's time to see what else Syracuse has to offer me.