i don't want a pickle...

i know, i know, the lighting makes her look juandiced but trust me...she's a beaut.



my handle bars make all the girls scream.




and if you look at the back tire you will notice it is flat. but! it is now fixed and up and running!

so, now that she's in my possession, paranoia has set in. i wonder about her wellbeing 24 hours a day. i ride her to and from work and today, when carl told me we were going to jazz in the park tomorrow, i almost declined because i wanted to ride my steed home. so basically, my life is much improved, though i am still transitioning priorities from the freaky first time motherhood sort, to regular im still 22 sort.

and that juandiced lighting and white concrete--that's just my office. it's actually quite nice when the music is playing and my mother's gardening poster is up, oh, and when the accountant doesn't kick me out. actually, i'm secretly in love with the accountant in a weird "when i am a professional writer you will be a staple character" kind of way. i will leave you with the lyrics from one of the most true songs ever written.

i don't want a pickle...
i just want to ride on my motor'sicle...
and i don't want to die...
i just want ride...
...on my motor cy...

-Arlo Guthrey