My Trip to the Gas Station Today

Went to the gas station today.

Filled up with premium. (That's right...the good stuff.)

Gave the lady two dollars.

I received change.

Life is good.

Sadness in Scooterville

I'm afraid that I might have to give up my poor Zippy soon. If we become a socialist nation tomorrow I will have to donate my Zippy to some inbred family in East Texas so they can have transportation. After all, it won't be fair if I have a car AND a scooter while they have nothing.

Hmmm...Maybe a Scarf would be Overkill

...that's the thought I had this morning as I left for work.

As those of us who live in Houston know, we just don't have cold weather often. We talk about possibly closing schools when it dips below 39. You know...just in case.

My other scooter friends definitely weren't scooting this morning One lives pretty far away. Dark and cold aren't her thing. One brings a jacket everywhere she goes...even in the Houston summer!

Let me just say that a scarf would not have been overkill. I had no earthly idea how stinkin' cold a chin could be. Miserable.

Note to self-Scoot with scarf when in doubt. I'm sure it will just add to my cool factor.

A New Level of Geek

My feet have been killing me lately. I broke down and purchased world's geekiest shoes. Unattractive does not begin to describe these shoes. They're hideous. However, they are oh-so-comfortable, and I don't cry if I have to walk across the building now.

This is where the geek factor comes into play. Imagine me in all my glory scooting on Zippy while sporting these fashion statements. Even my friends want to beat me up and take my lunch money.

While driving by Katy HS, some redneck youth were hanging outside the donut shop by their trucks with WAAAYYYY too large tires. Bubba, Billy Joe Bob, and Cletus had a good laugh the other morning. I just waved and scooted to work.

It's good to be at a place in your life where you truly don't care what others think.

The Wave

I've been a bad blogger.

A comical aspect of riding on two wheels is the wave. Motorcycle riders have a "wave" they give each other on the road. It's a special acknowledgement that only those who ride motorcycles share. It's really not a wave but more of a lifting of the left hand. It's a, "Hello," to a fellow free spirit and lover of the open road. I've become rather fond of the head nod since it doesn't require me lifting my hand off my "wheel".

Riding a scooter puts one in a unique position. Many motorcycle riders think of us as scooter trash and unworthy of the wave. I'm quite excited when a real motorcycle rider gives me the wave and try to give a cool, nonchalant wave instead of flapping my hand around like the scooter spaz that I am.

I've noticed a few things...

• People on Harleys rarely wave to scooter trash. In fact, they often sneer. That in turn makes me giggle.
• When comparing notes with others, people in Katy proper wave more than people in other areas. It's probably because there's still a small-town, friendly atmosphere here.
• Scooter trash always wave to fellow scooter trash.
• I'll get wave 50% of the time from folks not on Harleys.

I AM LEGAL!

Kristen and I took our tests today at the driver's license office, and we are now legal! Yes, I now have a motorcycle license.

We took a two day motorcycle safety course this weekend. The heat was horrid. Two days in the afternoon, Texas, summer sun. Did I mention we were wearing boots, pants, helmets, gloves, and long shirts? I don't want to be that hot for that long EVER AGAIN. I do think that's a taste of what Hell must be like. No thanks! It's a good think there was shade, and they gave us plenty of breaks.

Naming my Baby

I usually have a gift for naming things. I helped named Kristen's scooter (an orange Buddy 125) perfectly. Nothing is speaking to me for my own, though. Kristen suggested something French since it's a St. Tropez model (http://www.genuinescooters.com/scooters/buddy/intl.html).

Since my political leanings are quite clear, you can probably guess that I'll have a hard time naming it after the French. I just can't call him Sissy, Coward, or Run and Hide.

I thought about Pumbaa since Pumbaa was a warthog, but it's just not working for me. Thoughts? Suggestions?

Battle Pic

I look awful but was told that I should post my bug battle picture. Since it was taken in artificial light, the shot is a little yellow. You can't tell how red my eye is. It was pretty.

Saturday morning, I had to page my doctor since my eye was beginning to swell completely shut. Thank the good Lord for prednisone.

Bug Battle-Bug 1, Blair 0

I rode my scooter to school today and wore my full face helmet instead of the half helmet to be safe. However, it was much breezier with the face shield up. After all, I was wearing my glasses.

Did you know it was possible to be stung by a bee under the following circumstances?

• between your eye and nose
• while wearing glasses
• going 45 MPH on a scooter

I didn't either. Hurt like you wouldn't believe. Benadryl ensured that my eye didn't swell completely shut.

I think I'm gonna order a windshield.

Purchasing a Helmet

My husband purchased a half helmet the day we picked up Pumbaa. I wanted a full face helmet because they're safer.

Here is where I am introduced to Cycle Leathers. I walked in, looked at the store owner and perkily said, "Hi! I'm new here." Thankfully, he wasn't a cycle snob and helped the scooter chick with a friendly attitude and smile. There was a precious pink helmet, but I decided Barry would kill me if I bought it.

I left with a helmet, gloves, and a girl do-rag. I always wondered why bikers had do-rags. It prevents your helmet from smelling like feet. The rag absorbs the sweat so your helmet doesn't.

A Conservative in a Sea of Liberals

After owning a scooter for two whole days, I've definitely decided that I am a lone wolf. I guess most people who own scooters are trying to reduce their carbon footprint (insert eye roll here) and stick it to big oil companies.

Not me. I could have a carbon footprint the size of the Grand Canyon, and I probably wouldn't care. When Al Gore stops riding in private jets, we'll talk. As for big oil....my mom worked for Exxon. Dad worked for Hughes. I'm all for increasing my inheritance. SUV anyone?

I'm cheap, and it's just darn fun. I shall be the solitary voice of reason in a sea of tree hugging liberals.