The stuff that dreams are made of...

I don't know how or when it happened. But I've been bitten by the adrenaline bug.

I've always had a bit of a leadfoot, but my preference has always been to have 4 tires planted on the pavement whilst I'm weaving through traffic.

Until now.

When I met Jeff (the boyfriend), he informed me he had a motorcycle. My reaction was less than favorable. Prior to meeting him, I had only ridden on the back of two bikes, and both experiences were terrifying. Harrowing. BAD, bad, bad. When I finally saw the bike, I was surprised. For some reason, I assumed he was talking about a cruiser - a Harley, or something along those lines. They're quite popular here in Florida, so I just assumed...

It did take him some time (and gentle coaxing) to convince me to climb on the back of this 'crotch rocket' with him. The first few times, we just tooled around suburbia, and steered clear of the interstates. Little by little, I grew more comfortable with the whole thing, and started to actually enjoy it.

Fast forward 11 months, and now I'm hooked. The need for speed is planted within me, and now I'm no longer satisfied with riding in the back. I want to be in control. No more 'bitch seat' for me.

I need my own bike.

Besides, a bike is a perfectly good reason to invest in some nice leathers... how cute would I look in this and these.....