It S'not True!

It was an awesome day for a long motorcycle ride on Saturday here in Oregon. It was about 80 degrees and the sky was cloudless. We had a client to meet that lives out in the country so we took full advantage of it and rode the Harleys. We roared through the beautiful winding back roads of Oregon and enjoyed the incredible scenery.

I choose to wear a full face helmet when I ride. I like the face shield, bugs to the face hurt like hell.  I like the way it looks and I love the protection it offers. One of the only problems is that when I need to talk to someone at a light I have to grab the bottom of the helmet and pull it down and away from my face so they can hear me speak. 

Being nearly summer, with all the trees and flowers in bloom, I have full blown allergies. For me full blown allergies mean, uh, well, they mean huge masses of thick mucus that like to slide down, and get stuck in, my throat.

Usually they get lodged in that area right at the back of my nasal whatever it's called and I can sneeze them up and blow them out. I hate, I mean HATE having them where I have to suck them into my throat and spit them out. It makes me gag just thinking of it. I don't do snot, I don't do vomit and I don't do bathrooms.

Wouldn't you know that while I was riding 65 miles per hour down the freeway one of the nasty little bastards would decide to crop up on me. I certainly couldn't sneeze and blow my nose so I had no. other. option. I was going to have to suck it down and try to spit it out...gagging here.

So I sucked and then realized I had on a full face helmet. I had this thing in my mouth and was beginning to get that queasy feeling in my stomach. I had no choice. I had to try to spit it out and away from me. HA!

I lifted my face shield and pulled down the helmet a little bit so my mouth was free. Without taking the wind speed into account I spit as hard as I could. Wrong. Move.

The wind caught the huge thing and blew it right back into the side of my helmet. Oh Holy Mother of God I was going to lose it. I had no choice. I had to try to TOUCH it to get it out of my helmet and off of the side of my face all while flying 65 miles per hour down the freeway. I'd rather be hit in the face by a eight pound locust than have snot touch my skin!

I was hoping Jeff didn't notice but being a general contractor he notices even the smallest detail, and I wasn't exactly graceful with my attempted spitting or my trying to get the damned thing off of me. He saw every, single bit of my very un-diva like behavior.

As soon as we stopped at a light he looked over at me laughing so hard he could barely breathe. After he caught his breath he finally was able to ask, "Did I see what I think I saw?" All I could do was nod my head in shame.

First SPITTING and then getting hit by the massive wind swept snot ball was enough to take away my title of "Diva of Happy Valley."