The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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Summer's Requiem

So Summer's finally over. I have a lot to look back on. It was my first summer as a motorcyclist. It was the summer I finished my time at the state pen/community college and returned to Cornell. It was the summer I took my first ride in a helicopter. It was the summer I left the job I'd held for almost 4 years. It was the summer I finally said good-bye for good to the state of New Jersey, where I'd been trapped (aside from a brief reprieve to go to Cornell for months at a time after high school) since I was 8. If I have time to go to the DMV tomorrow, I can get rid of the NJ plates on my truck and then I'll be rid of that place FOREVER.

Summer '05 was all about change. Now we're into autumn, which is the season of leaf changes. I have a lot to look forward to. I can look forward to weekend rides on my motorcycle(s?) around the Finger Lakes region, amongst some of the most beautiful scenery outside of Vermont. I have my make or break semester at Cornell ahead; if I don't put up this term, I might as well shut up. I won't be coming back in the Spring. So I'm behind in the reading, so what? So is everyone else. Fact of the matter is today I really buckled down and did what I had to do without freaking out. Tomorrow, when my paper is all handed in, I can relax and do normal-people things like buying groceries (the cupboard is bare!) and doing laundry (which I've been procrastinating on for longer than usual). Hey, I can shave and stuff, too. I have my archery class to look forward to. Today, I shot two 50s (two sevens, and four nines; nines are bullseyes). I haven't shot since I first took the course in Spring of '98. Cool, eh? Maybe this weekend I'll speed up to the archery place on 13 and see what's what. I need to line up some work-study or something so I can make the outlay to etgay equippeday.

I have no idea what I should do between classes this winter. For some reason, the idea of a massive motorcycle trip appeals to me. I know there will be snow... but I wonder how much it would be to crate my bike somewhere warm and then ride the fuck out of it. Maybe cut like from LA to Jax as I tour the Southwestern United States (and Texas).

In other news, I didn't know until just now (or maybe I forgot) that Ωmegaman was by Andy Summers. I seem to consistently prefer the non-Sting Police songs (Don't tell the director I said so).

Someone said I looked like Demolition Man today. I was in my motorcycle gear, of course. I asked him, since I've been listening to the album, if he meant the song or the movie. He clarified by saying the cops in the movie. So now, to add to "Solja from the Fucha" and "Terminator", I have "Demolition Man". On my way out, I walked through Borders with a guy carrying a motorcycle helmet and asked him (me, Mr. SAD, starting a conversation!) if that was his Suzuki (Bandit 1200 if you care) I passed on the way in. He said it was and we talked bike stuff a bit and he asked me about my mesh jacket for summer riding. Then he pulled out while I was still gearing up, and I waved, and he waved back. Then he pulled out onto the access road and did a small wheelie. Ok, I was impressed up until that (nothing about him said squid). Still, he says it's an '02 and he's only dropped it once. More power to him. Reminds me of the kids on bicycles I rode past in Elmira last weekend. They told me to "do a wheelie" as if, by their say-so, it was legal. I wouldn't even know how to wheelie my bike if I wanted to. And I don't want to. So I yelled back for them to do a wheelie instead and sped off. I wish kids didn't see bikes and immediately think "irresponsible behavior!", but since their parents do, I don't think there's much hope. I just get out there and ride my own ride and don't wheelie to impress anyone (though I do lean pretty deep for a guy with knobby tires and a 35" seat height). Just being a safe motorcyclist is enough of a model.

I want to end this entry on a high note. I just heard a jingling sound at my window. My cat friend has found my apartment. If not for the jingling noise, the reflective eyes at my window would've scared the bejebus outta me. Who is my cat friend? Someone has a cat that they keep outside at this complex. She (I assume) is very friendly; I was working on my bike when I saw her and she came right over. Many of you who know me know I can do a "miao" that is almost indistinguishable from a real cat. I gave her two of those and she was my best friend. I wonder what I said to her. She curled herself in a figure eight around my motorcycle boots and I gave her a scritch-scratch and she tried to follow me inside. What is it with me and strays?

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