THANKFUL FRIDAY

Monday and Tuesday this week, I rode Valerie (the scooter) to work. Monday’s ride was spectacular. Tuesday’s ride was…not so great. I left the house under fairly mild conditions. The high for the day was 75 degrees, but I knew a cold front was moving in at some point. I bargained on being home before the front moved in. I was wrong. When I left work at 6:00 PM the temperature was 43 degrees. I had to stop at a local pub for an AIDS Walk Open Volunteer meeting. When I left the bar at 7:00 PM, the temperature was 38 degrees with strong gusts of wind. I was four blocks from the house when it started sleeting. It was not even remotely ideal scooter riding conditions, but I did it and I’m still alive.

I am notoriously territorial about my scooter. I don’t want anyone other than me riding Valerie. The same was true with V. I know Chris rode V once because that’s how he discovered my back tire was bad. He didn’t ask permission; he just did it. So there could have been other times. I don’t know. Once, I let my brother ride V home from work. He and Katrina were finishing up a long motorcycle ride to Canada and had stopped at my house. I went to work on V and let them have my car for the day, but at the end of the day, the city was hit with a downpour. My brother had all the rain repellant gear with him. So they came and got me in the car. I drove my car home and he drove the scooter so I wouldn’t get rained on. I am forever grateful he was there to do that.

Michael jokes about my territorial attitude towards the scooter and needles me about letting him ride my scooter constantly. Look, I am often the passenger when he’s driving a four wheeled vehicle. I am often behind him when we are on scooter rides. I do not approve of his driving techniques and this is why I will not let him drive my scooter. There is also something to be said about having things of your own. I would never ask to ride Michael’s scooter. For one thing, I’m not confident I have the strength to handle it. His scooter is heavier and has a bigger engine. For another thing, I don’t feel the need to share everything.

I struggled with my identity for a long time after Chris died; not that I think my identity is solely tied into a thing. It is a simplification of all the things, thoughts and ideas that are truly my own. I had so thoroughly woven my identity with Chris, that I couldn’t really tell what part of my actions or thoughts were Chris’s actions and thoughts or my own. I never noticed this while we were Chris and Cindy mostly because the two of us were so often on the same page about things both emotionally and intellectually. But when he was gone, I wasn’t sure how to be just Cindy. Eventually I figured out that I’ve always been just Cindy, that my identity wasn’t absorbed or defined by my relationship with Chris, but rather enhanced by it.

Being a little territorial about some things like my scooter or my writing or my ideas is my way of maintaining my own identity. Women, especially, have been trained to feel guilt for wanting/needing something of their very own, that we are being selfish for wanting our own time and space. This is yet another patriarchal lie that I am burning to the ground. Several times this week, I have looked at my reflection in the mirror and been surprised by my own cuteness. I have looked and thought “Hey there, cutie.” I may have even said it out loud and when I have finished taking note of my cuteness, I have whispered “you are deserving.” I am deserving of my own space and time. I deserve to be a little bit selfish.

Hey there, cutie. You also deserve to be a little bit selfish.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

There is the slightest hint of color reflecting off all the gray, dead looking trees outside. The greens of this year’s tulips have been up and out of the ground for weeks. The daffodils and hyacinths have all bloomed and the tulip trees are blooming. Most days are still uncomfortably chilly, but about once a week we get a warm and sunny day to remind us that Winter doesn’t last forever. That was Tuesday this week. The rest of the week was rainy, even snowy at times, and gross. But Tuesday? Tuesday was scooter weather. Tuesday I rode my scooter to work with a grin on my face. Then I rode my scooter to my chiropractic appointment at lunch time. From there, I almost did not go back to work because I was tempted to spend the rest of the day, zipping around the city with no destination in mind.

I haven’t said much about my new scooter, Valerie. I think there has been a part of me that has been holding back on fully embracing a new scooter. I was heartbroken over the loss of V. Devastated. I went to a real dark place. The only Vespa dealership in Kansas City is not my favorite place due to it’s misogynistic environment. The fun of shopping was diminished. I wasn’t buying a new scooter for the fun of it, because it was time and I deserved something new and shiny. I am going to admit that for the tiniest breath of a moment, I considered the idea of not replacing V. In that moment, I thought that maybe I was over the whole scooter thing and if I wanted two wheels, I’d just ride my bicycle. Even after the new scooter arrived, I was a bit hesitant to ride. It’s not that Valerie is so much different from V, but turn the signal buttons and the horn button aren’t quite in the same spots. I have to rewire my muscle memories and I’ve honked my horn a number of times while attempting to use my turn signal.

A shift in my feelings towards Valerie began when I finally put the rack and windshield on her, along with a permanent tag. I have yet to install the front rack and after watching a YouTube video on how to do so, I decided that I would not be installing the front rack. It involves a drill and drill bits. This feels like a job for someone more qualified than I. As it is, Valerie is now as decked out as V was, minus a few stickers. I’m on the hunt for a replacement Princess Leia sticker, but I did put a lovely rainbow ‘fuck fascism’ sticker on one side. Tuesday, as I rode to work, my heart swelled up with joy and that is when it truly hit me. It doesn’t matter what color, make or model of the Vespa. All that matters is that it is a candy colored, L-shaped swoosh of metal on two wheels and that it is zippy. My friend Sarah saw me leaving the parking garage for my chiropractor and when I came back she told me that I looked so chic. This is exactly the image I have of myself on any scooter. It’s how I felt when riding my old scooter and that feeling hasn’t changed with the new one.

I’m really thankful that I did not let that tiniest breath of a moment be longer than a tiniest breath.