Hey, you know what's totally awesome?

MY MOTOCYCLE!!!!!!!!!

Though I didn't really spend all that much time thinking about it, because nothing seemed perfectly fitting...I think I will end up naming her Blueberry. Before I continue, Fuck You - yes, Blueberry. My first choice, as always, was simply naming my bike "Butters." The only reason I refrained from naming her Butters, is 1) if I get a dog at any point in my life, he will be named Butters, 2) Clearly she is a she, so Butters is not befitting (Hmm...Maybe Beurre...oooh, or Beurreberry), and 3) If I have a child at any point, he will be named Butters. In any case, if you have a suitable name for the bike, and I like it...I will go with it. Though an explanation for your suggestion would be appreciated. And any explanation that involves any permutation of "Because you're Gay" will be automatically eliminated.

I will admit - the first week or so on the new bike in the city was a little bit nervewracking. Just nervewracking enough that I wouldn't cross 14th street (except when I got caught in traffic and got too scared to zip out of it to make a turn), and just nervewracking enough that it wasn't totally fun...but just a little bit terrifying. Just a lil bit. lil bit.

On top of that, having never driven a manual before...I had the stalling problem. I would roll the throttle/gas, let go of the clutch, lurch, feel a pop, and come to a dead standstill as my bike shuddered and stalled. The first 7 times this happened, I was in front of large groups of hip pretty young people eating breakfast outside in the lower east side. (I had ventured down to get some Guss' pickles, but found out they were closed. And promptly stalled in front of a mack truck and in front of lots of people.) In my defense, the clutch on this bike was very different from the clutch on the bike I learned on...so I had to get used to it. The friction spot in the clutch was very narrow so just half an inch stood between a slow start and an embarrassing stall.)

The worst of these moments was driving up near 23rd street on a particularly adventurous journey that first week, and stalling (inexplicably) while moving in heavy traffic. My guess is that I was in 3rd gear, didn't downshift in time, and simply stalled out. I was on my way to Ess-a-Bagel (!!!), when the stall happened...and I shakily parked my bike and hoofed it the rest of the way there, where I got myself an Everything Bagel with Whitefish (oh man, so good.)

Luckily, now I've gotten the hang of it.
And now that I've gotten the hang of it, I am back to totally loving it. I made a trip up to Hell's Kitchen last Sunday, with great success...namely, if you catch the Green Light starting at 14th St, you can pretty much make it ALL the way up 10th Avenue until you hit the mid-40s before you hit another Red Light. In New York? 30+ blocks in 2 or 3 minutes? Duuuude. (My trip to Hell's Kitchen was end-stopped by an artery squeezing free dinner at Shake Shack, courtesy of my friend Rachel who needed air condition installation help, which involved a caramel shake, a shack burger, AND a shack-cago dog. All of which made the drowsy ride home slightly more tenuous.)
(P.S. - Consider this a virtual coupon - if you visit me in New York and say the words "I love Patrick Dempsey", you will get a free ride to breakfast, snack, and dinner at Ess-a-Bagel, Guss' Pickles, and Shake Shack (the Madison Park version)...on me.)

(Hm...why do all of my motorcycle adventures involve food? And why does that make this So Much More AWESOME!)

Alright, as for the rest of my life, it's the same. Who cares.