Main differences between Sulandia & The Slaghammer?
1) Absence of the word slag, which is apparently irresistible to Britts.
2) Tabs. Notice them at the top. The art one will get updated every once in a while, and others may appear w/o notice.
3) Fresh start. The old blog started as an "internet presence" thing for the writing. This is just for fun, to connect with people and just be myself.
Tell me what you guys think. On to the first post!
My Memorial Day weekend actually started Friday, but don't be jealous (much) (okay, go ahead) because I'm working today (Mon.) (Probably. A little anyway.) I took a couple of cool folks on a little kayak trip down the Miss. Up by me it's not gross yet. It's still a young river. As I waited around in my backyard for them I looked around at all the illuminated green and listened to the birds and thought, "I will never regret a moment of this day." It was perfect.
The drive was pretty.
We saw a gas station designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in Cambridge.
And a cool old theater. I wish people would re-open these and show old movies. Like "Now showing at the Way-Back Room!"
When we finally got home, we had just enough time to have a beer by the river.
No one will be impressed by me no matter how *good* (for me) I get anyway. Last year, after I got my feet wet, I think I suffered from delusions of grandeur, wanting to get to be good enough that people would be like *wow*.
False alarm-- root.
I'd planned on getting a helmet kind of like this, but maybe chrome because they're so visible. This whole motorcycle thing is so out of character for me and kind of scary. So much so, that at times when my writer brain goes off on a tangent about "what if I ever have to go on the lamb for some reason" I've thought becoming a motorcycle chick would be the perfect cover for me because it would be my absolute LEAST likely mode.
See? Even that-- I'm chastising my fear even as I'm admitting it's trying to save my butt. Me = hopeless. But I am learning.
I spent the rest of the evening whining about getting hurt. My elbow burned like crazy and the back of my leg where the bike landed on it hurt too. He took me for ice cream, (how else do you placate a big baby?) and got me these "lucky lights" candy cigarettes. Apparently I need the luck.
After taking this pic he goes, "There's nothing funny about smoking you know. This isn't funny." -- Which made me laugh for some reason.
I guess as much as I want to be a "light bringer" (positive force for good, all around good-egg type), there is still part of me that carries the fire, and my inner teenager still gets a kick out of subversive fun.
It sure seems like a lot has happened since last Thursday. ~Whew!~