i might write a song about my old bike. how lame is that? i guess it's just really symbolic to me. my life seems to be broken down into three chunks: life before tripping hazard/my most recent ex, life during tripping hazard/being with my ex, and post tripping hazard/break up with said ex.
my bike was with me during that whole middle chunk, 6 years- most of my 20s. that was the chunk where i felt most like i had my shit together, especially near the end. the last 3 years, everything fell into place. i was a "grown up", i did adult things, had a job, paid my bills (most of the time), had a band that was finally garnering some respect, had a clean house, someone too cook for, baby kitties and had dinner parties with steak and candles out on the balcony.
ol' rusty was there through it all. i remember the first day i got her, joel found her at a garage sale for $10 and he biked to home outfitters to meet me after work, dragging her along. i hadn't eaten and almost passed out trying to bike to rustic road from weston and the 401. damn sugar crash.
6 years. all-seasons. we got hit by a bus together and survived. she was with me for the critical masses, adventure biking club madness, and stuck by me when we had to escape cops in riot gear during the g20 because the bike bloc's peaceful protesting was seen as some kind of a threat.
i guess it just seems fitting that ol' rusty's dead. the girl i used to be when i flew down the streets on her, squeaking and covered in anti-car slogans, is also dead. or is she hiding? i don't know. who is this timid, morose girl? i just don't laugh as much, i'm lethargic and more pessimistic than usual. where did fun jen go?
even layton's death, it feels somehow connected. i spent so much time with the adventure biking club and joel, biking around, championing the NDP... i don't know.
yeah, i'm gonna write a song for ol' rusty.
i feel so weird today. so surreal. i'm too nostalgic at times. it feels like layton's passing is the final nail in the coffin of the past 6 years of my life.
i'm okay, i'm happy with how my life is most of the time. i'm seeing someone new who's really amazing. i'm working on new songs with the pink christ. i have new friends. come october, i'll have a new place to live. maybe new cats? hopefully a new job.
everything is new and shiny and i'm ready to go. i'm ready to leave things behind. i'm over it, i am. i'm just kind of overwhelmed and lost. silly things like seeing my cats (who stayed with my ex) or biking away while ol' rusty sits locked to a pole on the street, make me feel unsteady. i'm not good at new things. i'm a routine girl. i'm afraid of fucking things up, so when i'm doing okay, i try not to change things.
i stay in bad jobs, in bad relationships and in bad situations longer than i should, because i'm not good at changing. it's scary. i like adventure, but fear uncertainty. i feel like i'll never be stable again.
when things sucked, i loved getting on ol' rusty and speeding as fast as i could (which was really fast), and as far as i could, screaming or singing or bawling my eyes out.
i feel like maybe i'm being overly dramatic. i'm an artist though, it's in my DNA. i write songs about my band like it's my boyfriend. i'll write a love song for my trusty steed. ol' rusty love.
a random critical mass photoset from 2008:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/blackxwhitexpixie/sets/72157606408415989/with/2707740179/
bells on bloor election edition:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/blackxwhitexpixie/sets/72157625121284477/
G20 weekend, including critical mass and the bike bloc:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/blackxwhitexpixie/sets/72157624384127950/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/blackxwhitexpixie/sets/72157624133783195/
