Ouch
So I've been incermentally increasing how far I go on the bike, going a little further each week from the norm (10 miles, round trip) to where now I'm going roughly 14. By the end of the summer I want to be able to bike to Cedar Falls (roughly 20 miles, round trip) without suffering some sort of ambulatory episode. So I take precautions. But I don't wear a helmet, or pads, despite how fast I go (pretty fast). I had a dream the other night about being in an accident on the bike (which followed another odd dream where someone broke into my house in the middle of the night, but I shared it with someone I know [I think we were married], but not that well) and then today, I'm going down the trail, and this guy walking past points to this scar on his face and says, "This is what happens when you don't wear a helmet." So, somebody is trying to tell me something.
I've been putting the finishing touches on the zine. I've found all sorts of mistakes and pagination errors, and I'm sure I'll find more once it's printed. Never fails. I still need to figure out why the pictures aren't printing right, but other than that, we're ready to roll on issue #1. I'll have lots more info on that in the days ahead, as well as news about the zine's very own web site.
I have to figure out where I am with my novel. I spend most of my time piecing together another in my head, and this one only shows up to shame me with guilt. And tempt me with the possibilites, which are endless, and exotic, and sometimes I just want to sit down and spit it out all at once, or throw it out the window.
I've been putting the finishing touches on the zine. I've found all sorts of mistakes and pagination errors, and I'm sure I'll find more once it's printed. Never fails. I still need to figure out why the pictures aren't printing right, but other than that, we're ready to roll on issue #1. I'll have lots more info on that in the days ahead, as well as news about the zine's very own web site.
I have to figure out where I am with my novel. I spend most of my time piecing together another in my head, and this one only shows up to shame me with guilt. And tempt me with the possibilites, which are endless, and exotic, and sometimes I just want to sit down and spit it out all at once, or throw it out the window.
Comments
They'll help you choose the right helmet for your noggin.
I wish I had time to ride ten miles a day. I have mine all fixed up, with a new saddle and brakes, and I've had it out exactly once.