Saturday, October 20

A Sissy Gets Her Motorcycle License

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"Girly-girl" . . .
that's what the coach of my motorcycle class calls me.
How on earth did he figure it out so fast?

What let the cat out of the bag?

It's not like I bought a pink helment
{although it was a temptation, let me tell you.
I mean is this photo cute or what?}
But my helment is a sensible silver. So that's not it.

Could it possibly be that I 
cried during my road test?

What?
That's right friends.
I could almost hear Tom Hanks saying,
"Are you crying?! 
THERE'S NO CRYING IN 
MOTORCYCLING  BASEBALL!!!"
- THE scene from A League of Their Own -
{Although my coach was MUCH NICER.
He gave me a hug. What a relief. Ha ha.}

Oh my. 
Why did I cry?
I have to say I'm really tender-hearted,
but not often to the point of tears.

But getting my license has been on my
bucket list.
And I really wanted to do this - to do my best
and succeed. I was super emotional about it.

As the only female in the class,
I wanted to do as well as the guys.

Although a stinky thought entered my mind, 
"Maybe you can't do this. Maybe you should just 
stick with the stuff you're good at."
For instance . . . 
- "Buddy the Elf" - I can relate
. . . or spray painting stuff.

But, I blew my nose 
{of course I was prepared with tissues in my pocket} 
& persevered. My patient coaches
hung in there with me . . . and ta-da! 
I DID IT!
{But you may want to stay off the roads & sidewalks
for a while - I'm just sayin'. *wink*}