It started the day I got back for thanksgiving, and the bike was already in pretty good shape. The wheels were going out, as well as the tubes, and the handlebars were a little funky, but otherwise, all the components worked extremely well for being a 15+ year old bike.
The seat was one of the biggest problems, however. Someone had jammed a bike post that was a smidge too big into the frame, and it was impossible to remove. And we tried everything, and I mean everything.
After a considerable amount of trying, we decided to cut it off and drill it out instead.
Once that was dealt with, the only thing left was to paint the bike.
We bought a fluorescent blue tape to go with the blue handlebar tape, and painttaped the rims to keep from destroying the bearings inside. After a few quick sprays, it started to look great. Finally, a clear acrylic finish was applied to seal the paint and give it a nice dull flash.
For the frame, a semi-gloss black was chosen, and after some rough sanding and cleaning, I went at it. Everything went down without a hitch except for a few areas that puddled up a little. I’m going to go over those later and finish them up.
After a few frustrating tube and tire replacements, and some sticky gears, the bike was assembled, and it looked great. Dad rode it around a little after I test drove it to fine tune the brakes and shifter, and after the OK the final task was ready to be completed.
The Schwinn had a badge on the front of the fork, a small rounded medal with the Schwinn logo. Once everything was finished, I screwed it back it, and took a step back.
A few rough spots here and there, and some scratches, but hell, the bike looked pretty good to me!
And now it sits outside my apartment, waiting for the first real ride tomorrow into town to run some errands.
No news on the name yet, but so far I like “Stella.” Kind of ethereal, a little spacey, but not too crazy.
after a full night of friends and interesting car talks, it was incredible.
the shell of the car protected us from the dry coldness that threatened to force life back into us, to try and keep us from combined body heat, but instead, a moist dome was created inside, with the windows literally soaked.
the first breath of cold night air is always the best though. In a euphoric stupor, that came as a calming after effect, lulling my senses into alertness, tricking me into relaxing into awakeness.
Two deer stood by and watched us, carefully, munching tentatively on fresh damp green grass. While wrapped in your warmth, I though if they could feel that we weren’t a threat, wondered if they could see emotion.
I clearly felt yours, and these next two weeks will be bittersweet at best.
Luckily though, I have a memory to carry myself through, one that still leaves me short of breath.
P.S. I saw what you wrote on the window, and it made me smile all the ride home.
The hedgehog’s dilemma, or sometimes the porcupine dilemma, is an analogy about the challenges of human intimacy. It describes a situation in which a group of hedgehogs all seek to become close to one another in order to share their heat during cold weather. However, once accomplished, they cannot avoid hurting one another with their sharp quills. They must step away from one another. Though they all share the intention of a close reciprocal relationship, this may not occur for reasons which they cannot avoid. (via Ry-Guy)
it shouldnt be used as a space filler, and there is no way i can continue letting it be used as a closer.
yet my mouth feels empty without releasing it. like a negative space, full until i open it up to the world, where it is released and may never return.
but that kills meaning. repetition may be emphasis, but sometimes the contrast of three words against a whole lot more of em is emphasis enough.
from here on out, i decree, until otherwise stated, to not ruin that word.
even now im afraid of typing it.
not afraid, but reverent. respect is something earned, and very easily lost. so flaunt it i shall not, and with a sticky tongue will i let such consonants and vowels escape my lips. the idea, the feeling, show flow more readily then its physical counterpart.
its when the alcohol has finally meandered its way to my brain, taking care to make sure i know that i miss you, to take care to notice that that empty spot by my side is where you should be?
its sappy isnt it?
i could make it doubly so by stating that my bed tonight will be very cold.
i hope these bring a smile to your face, even a little laugh, knowing what torture your bringing onto me, and you don’t even have to be next to me to do it. (although you knowing my tickle spot doesnt help either.)
i can’t help but imagine a time full of pumpkin pie, where the slow touch of your skin against mine will smack itself against my senses, will lay me flat and pin me.
my eye lids, like muddy boots, become heaver with every step they take over my eyes. they gain weight, and it spreads past brain and hand and leg and foot. heart slows. words. disconnect.