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After the hell that was 2008, I swore 2009 would be better. And so far, I have no complaints.

The weekend before the big inauguration, I flew to Tennessee to spend the weekend with my Bitches. We met years and years ago through a message board on a website (and NO it wasn't match.com), ventured out on our own when said message board became ridiculous, and we've been lowering our productivity at work ever since. This was the first official get together, and we had a blast. Hanging out in person is so much better than a message board!

The bike is dead. It will be disassembled shortly and stored for....well, I really don't know yet. Maybe one of these days i'll restore the damn thing, or maybe i'll get tired of looking at the big box it will be in and sell the parts. I'm just not ready to let go yet. We had a good run.

Last Tuesday marked the one year anniversary of my mom being diagnosed with cancer. Most people remember birthdays, death days, anniversaries- and I remember sitting in a hospital while mom had surgery to remove the tumor, waiting for the doctor to tell me she'd be fine. Of course she didn't, and the rest is history, but that day is burned into my mind in a way I never thought it would be. I can't remember the day she died, but I remember this. I remember because it changed my life. That day was the first day of the hideous roller coaster ride that would become synonymous with the year 2008. That day was complete, utter shit.

I found our unfinished passport applications on the bookshelf today, squeezed between two old textbooks and forgotten. It was February of last year when I picked those up- determined that I was going to find a way to take mom back to Italy before she died. Looking back, I realize how naive that was- thinking that I had any control, any say in the matter- that she was clearly getting worse and would not get any better, let alone well enough to travel overseas. It still makes me sad that I never got to take her back there, but I find it a happy coincidence that her previous five years had taken her to Europe twice.

I'll be 28 tomorrow, and I wish like hell she were here to see that. Not that there is anything remarkable about 28, or any age for that matter, but just because the void is incredible.

Requiem for my two wheeled friend

I have this bike- a 1956 Schwinn Corvette- I love this bike. I've been trying to restore it for a couple of years now- nothing like a show piece, just so it looks like a Corvette again. The bike has many period-incorrect parts on it, so i've been trying to find the right parts to put it all together again.

In the meantime, I ride it just about every day- or, I did until last weekend when the derailleur (the cog assembly on the back wheel) fell off. Can't get it back on, because it wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.

In order to fix the bike, I have to replace the wheels and the hub (to get rid of the derailleur). Trouble is, the wheels for this bike are about $60 each, I'd have to find the spokes and the hub, all of which are no longer made and an odd size (24" vs 26'), so they're hard to find. Add to that, taking it to the shop to get the work done, and i'm looking at almost $300!

I am really sad about having to decide what to do here. I love that bike, and I'd love to restore it, but I also want it to be functional and not just a giant money pit. So far, it's been both functional and a money pit, but now that the functionality has disappeared, I don't know what to do.