Do you know where your bike parts are?

I think I do:

5/25/2007 10:31:00 AM THE DELIVERY INTERCEPT REQUEST FOR THIS PACKAGE  WAS
SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED;THE ADDRESS HAS BEEN CORRECTED. THE DELIVERY HAS BEEN RESCHEDULED SUNNYVALE, CA US

Expected:Jan. 1, 1900 12:00:00 AM 
HUH?

Waiting, waiting, waiting....

The poor UPS guy. I'm probably going to jump on him like the homemaking wife of a traveling sales guy.

One of my best friends is getting married in two weeks, in Dallas. I didn't know until two days ago. She had my latest address wrong, and the invitation was lost. Another of my friends had a showing of her movie, but I didn't know. Her hard drive had crashed, and she lost her email addresses. Whenever I see my sister, we rush to tell each other everything that's been going on in our lives. We are both so hungry for intimate female friendship.

I asked myself how did my life get this way? When I was younger, in school, friends were everything, I don't think an invitation getting lost in the mail would have prevented me from knowing about the wedding, or a crashed hard drive would have kept me from seeing the movie. My sister and I were close, we knew everything about each other.

Modern life is so hard on friendships. I know I spend my days at work, my off hours riding or taking care of some other business, then I'm tired. I don't keep in touch regularly anymore. Neither do any of my old friends.

Am I the only one that thinks something is wrong with that? Or is this freedom we have to live our own way and to roam about the country (or the globe for that matter) for a better salary or a preferred lifestyle truly the way to go? I mean, for the most part, I like the choices I've made and what I've been doing these days. But not knowing about the wedding of a friend who has been such an intimate part of my life for so long, it just really made me take a step back and look at things.

So, will I make more of an effort to call? Hmmm...I'm starting to feel sleepy again.

Ahhhhh

Sore legs. Tight back. Tight abs. Three days of dirt.

How sweet it is!

Big Bears Like Skirts

I'm down to the dregs of the laundry.

Usually I wear jeans to work. Something about bending over to help students in a skirt is just uncomfortable. Plus, I like my comfortable shoes.

But I haven't been doing my laundry. Last weekend I was at a conference and then I've just been working and riding this week. So I had to wear a skirt to work, or really gross way too recycled jeans...

So, I walk towards my classroom, and the boys all look at my legs (another thing that weirds me out, when they look at my ass in jeans at least I don't know).

After I unlock the door, a boy who is called Oso, because he actually does have the shape of a big bear, comes into my room and says, "Hey Donna, Danny say you look pretty today." I say "Marco, I think you are the one who thinks that, and now you are embarrassing Danny." "Yes Donna, you are pretty today," he said back with a red sheepish grin before he shuffled off to the right class.

Are men really that easy, or is it just hormonally challenged adolescent boys?

Envy During the Wait

Sometimes I wish I sat in front of a computer most of the day, so I could blog before work gets me tired. My boss always seems to find too much for me to do. Damn saving the world takes a lot of time...maybe I should send him this:












Then there's this whole salary issue. Over the course of building this bike, I am sooo jealous of those who don't have to wait patiently for all of the deals to come along and sponsors to send product, and blah blah blah. I know I am lucky to have the resources I do have, but damn, at my age, I could've had more dough, you know? I've been thinking a lot about the ways we pay, and when we pay. Because you've always got to pay, right? So I pay with low pay, but I get all the time off, I run my little classroom world, and, I get to feel damn good about what I do most of the time.






But I want to ride my new bike, NOW! It's not the same since I rode Jeni's bike in the Sugoi Clinic. I want my BIG FIVE INCHES NOW!!!! I want to jump and hop and drop off RIGHT NOW!!!

But will I feel this pain when the bike is done? I don't know...








And then there's the worst jealousy: all you lucky folks who have found a mate who wants to ride with you or go to races with you or even lives near you.

Just 'cause I chose to be a weirdo and make no money doing God's work doesn't mean I wanted to become a celibate nun. Just someone who I like who likes me, too. That's all I ask. Why is that so hard?