Who am I?

Sometimes I wonder who I am. Don't you? Are we defined by where we're born, or where we live? I think that many are defined by titles – mother, sister, grandmother, wife, of which I am none, at least legally. Mind you, I'm not complaining. But I wonder how I am defined.

There are those who define me as an Alaskan. Some define me by my age. Others say I'm a biker. More may say I'm defined by my former profession, white collar, conservative electric utility employee. And then I wonder about that.

Okay, no white collar, and not exactly being conservative with two desserts at my Chugach winter party in January 2011.

The reason I've even given this some thought isn't because I'm a deep-thinking person. Nah, none of that. It's all because of the incident with my closet and the avalanche of Harley shirts that rained down upon my head.  In removing everything from the closet so it could be repaired, I started looking at what I had in there … suits, dresses, blouses, Harley shirts, of course, sweatshirts, jackets, leather vests and skirts … so it seemed like a good time to go through things.

Just one of multiple piles of clothes needing reorganization or removal.

My quandary is due to not being able to give up a whole lot of my professional-life clothing … the suits.

Working my last annual meeting for Chugach.  I don't know that I can give up this hot pink silk suit, though.  I even had a little pink feather for my hair, showing just a little of the rebel that will probably take over my life at some point.

So far, some dress shoes and three big bags of clothing have made it out of this house, mostly to the SPCA for the thrift store.  When I look around at the piles of stuff still in the bedroom, it's quite apparent that there is a lot more that can “begone.”

Two of three bags of clothes that are now gone from the premises.

Am I then defined as a hoarder? I sure hope not, but as I sift and paw threw these piles, I'm hoping it becomes easier to put a few more items in the “to be gone” pile rather than the “save and rehang in the closet” pile.

I'm trying to be practical and am thinking:

1. I'm not planning to work again.
2. If I do work, I don't want to work in a professional capacity.
3. I want to be defined as a retired, cool biker lady, with lots of other interests.

Bear Claw Casino in Saskatchewan, Canada, 2010. 

So, guess I need to finish up here and get back into that bedroom and start moving stuff around again. Riding season is nearly here and I've got lots of miles to ride this summer.