The Further Adventures of a Girl Called Steff

Daylight is dawning as a windstorm rages here on the Wet Coast. Light mist is getting blown sideways. It’s not a day for scooters. The prospect of work is not painting a smile on this face of mine, but smiling ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.

I’m finding this getting-a-life plan of mine is starting to limit my time alone, and I’ve realized the only way I can have the best of both worlds is if I start getting up earlier. Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it, but it’s a little more complicated than that.

Allow me a tangent, if you will. Breakfast yesterday was with some of the folks from the scooter club here in town (don’t knock it; they’re all into all the same stuff in life as me, but I think I need to get that tattoo I’ve been considering before I totally fit in, seriously). I was talking shop with one of the guys and mentioned how I had, at one time, considered doing some mods to increase speed, and he frowned on the idea. He mentioned how, when you’re modifying your ride and increasing performance, it’s totally a domino effect. Everything from the spark plug to the muffler to the rollers to the belt to the transmission needs upgrading in order for your ride to perform faster, better.

It’s the same dilemma in existential mechanics. Change can’t be done to one area of life without affecting others. When it comes to sleep, for me, that impacts everything. I’ll need to eat better, exercise more, and take my nighttime meds earlier to have the kind of energy I’ll need to maintain an earlier rising every day.

Yesterday’s breakfast hookup, strangely, will also assist me in getting life on track in every way. I’ve been trying not to whine about my scooter too much, but it’s had problems since last August. I made the mistake of running fully synthetic oil and my bike’s carb’s all jammed up, which means I putt-putt around town. A) It’s humiliating to barely break 30 clicks on hills, and B) it’s gonna get me killed with these fucking impatient drivers Vancouver has in our Olympics-construction dead-locked town. Seriously. Fearing for my life is my latest new past-time. Fuckin’ drivers. Leaving a foot between yer car and my ride does NOT constitute “safe passing”, thank you kindly.

Why it hasn’t been repaired is a long and sordid story involving AWOL shop owners, businesses closing and relocating, and possibly even fraud, so forgive me if I don’t clue you in on the chaos and soap-operaesque antics of As the Scooter World Turns. Convoluted, indeed.

…Suffice to say my bike needs a-fixin’. And this weekend one of the guys from the club is more than happy, he says, to not only fix my bike for me (which he concurs sounds like a clogged injector) but teach me how to do it, too. Yay!

Having my scooter RUN the way it’s supposed to will really improve my quality of life. That thing gives me so much control over my life, and when I don’t have it running well and I’m not riding, I’m at the mercy of the horrible BC Transit. Evil! There’s a big difference between 15 minutes to get downtown on the scooter (and, when it’s running, despite only having a max of 60-65 clicks, I get downtown faster than 90% of cars) and taking an hour with buses. The thing’s been verging on unsafe to ride, though, so I’ve been doing buses and feel like I have no time left for me, though I am well-read of late. Giving myself back that additional 60-90 minutes a day, PLUS getting up earlier will have a huge impact on how full my life can be.

AND I’m excited to learn something about mechanics. This is cool. That’s totally in keeping with the kind of chick I am — empowered. Gimme a wrench, man! I’ll show you some torque, baby.

Did I mention it’s nice to be meeting men again? Right, well, that too.

So, that’s where my week’s at. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m being a little self-indulgent with the posts on my world and changing my life, but to tell you the truth, my head’s spinning a little and I’m worried about achieving a good balance with everything. Plus I’m nervous as hell about being social again after taking myself out of the game so long. (But I did say something so funny yesterday that someone spat food out and someone else choked, so, that was nice. đŸ™‚ It’s tough navigating new worlds, and I’m kind of concerned that if I take too much time to think about other things that I might get off my path. Changing the self and fixing what’s the existential equivalent of a leaky boat takes a whole lot of work, and a lot of courage at times. Whew.

Still. Loving the dividends I’m reaping already (did I mention my scooter’s getting fixed?) and can’t wait to see what else is coming down the pipes. (Yippee! Scooter! Vive le Eurotrash Girl!)