I'm Blowing This Pop-Stand

And moving to Suelandia (30 to 70% more awesome than other lands).  All friendlies welcome. 

C'mon guys! -- ~waves you over~

Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Hey people.  Get ready for some big changes.  Can't say any more at the moment, but the next time you come here, be prepared.

Here's just an update on where I'm at right now, otherwise known as "SueNews."

Writing-wise, many of you know already "I'm on a break!"  Here's the deal:  About 5 years ago I decided if I was ever going "be a writer", like I'd always said I'd do when I grew-up, I'd better get at it.  Like most things I take an interest in, I became obsessed.  I devoured books about it, read tons of other people's work, listened constantly to books on tape, joined a writing group, and spent about every spare moment writing a novel.

Now I've written about 3, well, 2 & 1/2.  I've re-written all of these bunches of times, so it feels more like I've written 5 or 6.  Almost 2 years ago, I discovered a *new* genre called YA (young adult) and got very excited about that because it was all about teens & edginess, a couple of things I connect to rather well.  Thing is, agents who liked my work thought my voice might actually be a little too mature for young readers, and also wanted me to change my stories around and add tons more sappy love interest stuff.

Now I'm totally sick of YA, and have a hard time even finding anything to read in that genre that interests me.  So now I'm "on a break", letting ideas just float around.  I think the whole publishing process thing kind of burned me out too.  I'm recharging those batts I guess.

Mood-wise, lots of you know I can run very hot and cold.  The last couple years I've felt kind of like a snapped power line, arcing around all over the place with way too much energy.  Suddenly I'm feeling less "pent-up".

This is kind of good, well, okay, I know it probably IS good, but it's weird too.  It reminds me exactly of how I felt when I was a teenager-- like I was fire itself.  Fire is always hungry, and you have to keep feeding it to stoke it and keep it going.  It's kind of exhausting, but if you don't know how to be anything else, or are not sure what will be left if the fire goes out, it's kind of scary to feel it "dying-out."

Anyway, I'm in that mode-- trying to poke around in the embers and see what else is in there.  Maybe being super wound-up and having that tight chest feeling like you're about to freaking hulk-out any second isn't really WHO I am, but just a way I can, at times, feel.  I guess the main thing is, to keep striving for awesome, and trying to be a force for good, and roll with it because it is "life" after all.  :)

Here are two songs to illustrate these mixed feelings.  The first is my beloved Foo Fighters, doing "My poor brain".  "This is a black-out, don't let it go to waste.  I want to detonate.  Sometimes I wish that I could change.  I can't save you from my poor brain."  I TOTALLY relate.  But am feeling less like that right now.  The other is an old favorite-- Sheryl Crow doing "Soak up the sun."  "I'm still the king of me.  It's not getting what you want, it's wanting what you got."  YEAH.  Totally there right now.





All this stuff I'm telling you, coupled with me being really sick of Britts hitting the blog looking for "slag-this-that-&-the-other", and people searching for "sanjaya ponyhawk" & "big fat bacon" (seriously?-- Yup.) etc, are prompting the aforementioned big changes coming next week.  They're good changes though.  :)

Another big adventure

Last weekend is a total blur. Actually, it blurred right into yesterday.

Check out this bike I found at a garage sale Saturday morning for Megan. Note the "rock'n'roll saw blades" inside the wheel spokes. I'm calling it the Super-Awesome-Rad, Power Bike. It makes anyone who sees it need to ride it. It has wicked front shocks too.

Here's me trying to convince Meg (photographically) of it's coolness. Hoping she just goes with it even though it's not "girly." If it was my size I'd ride it around town for sure. I might anyway!

Saturday afternoon I helped over at the trail, getting ready for a "duathelon" race Sunday. Racers ran a 5k through the hilly woods, then biked two continuous laps through the toughest half of the course, then ran the first leg of the race again--- in 90 degree super humid temps. ~crazy~

I wasn't racing (thank god! - Blech-- I hate running in heat!) but I like the vibe over there, with all the racers, and really like the people running the trail. They're my friends now and I love helping out friends. :)

To recap, so so far my weekend has gone like this:

Sat morning: Procure Super Awesome Rad Power Bike
Sat afternoon: Help set up for Sunday's race
Sat night: Double feature rentals that kept us up until about 1 a.m.
Sunday: Got to the trail about 6:30 a.m. to help with race which went until about 2:00 p.m.

By this time I was kind of on fumes. I got home and hit the couch and almost instantly fell asleep. But it didn't last long. Dan woke me up. There was something he wanted, badly. (Get your minds out of the gutter people-- I'm talking about a Honda trail bike.)

Remember my weekend of sue-point-oh and being all open to trying new things that led to me deciding it would probably be fun to find myself a little Trail-90 somewhere? Yeah-- When Dan saw a crack in the motorcycle door he quickly rammed his foot right in it. Like any guy, he's always wanted one, but it was "verboten". No kids, no motorcycles was part of "the deal."

Now that I've rationalized the little non-threatening, not very fast and rather cute trail bikes aren't really motorcycle motorcycles... well, in classic Dan fashion he's decided he needs the slightly more fancy, more expensive version of what I am looking at-- a Honda Trail 110. He found one, in Janesville WI.

A spur of the moment 12 hour road trip was on. Here's me at the beginning. Yeah, I'm already tired, and it's 4:00 Sunday afternoon, and the car has no AC and it's super hot and humid. My hair is NOT awesome. At all. But what the hell?--- We've got a cooler, and a tool box--let's hit it!

It was pretty fun at first-- a last minute adventure! So what I was kind of spaced-out from sleep deprivation and still wearing the same sweaty clothes from being at the hot trail all day and hadn't really eaten anything all day? "Road-trip, road-trip, road-trip!"

At one point Dan looked over and goes, "Ugh. There's cat hair all over your boobs." Me, "Why are you looking at my boobs instead of the road? You're supposed to be driving." (inattentive driving = major pet peeve of mine.) Him, in his dorky "I am super awesome" voice- "Because it pleases me." Me, "Yeah? Well check it out buddy." ~moosh~ Him- "Sorry officer, I was distracted by my wife's cat hair encrusted cleavage."

Yup, tons of joking around, arguing about who should have extra straws with their DQ shake. "You def need like, 5, because that's how much you suck!" Tons of laughing at all the cheese and fireworks billboards. Tons of beautiful, rolling WI scenery. But like any long road trip, it got old.

Here's me about 11 hours later, somewhere in WI. Driving had become like playing some intense video game at this point. I was craning forward trying to keep it between the dotted and solid lines, seemingly unable to predict curves. Dan had to take over for the last leg. I was def impaired.

But-- it was worth it. Dan got his 110, and want to know something kind of freaky? This is basically Dan's birthday gift (mine will be mine). The guy we bought it from got it from the original owner-- his uncle. That guy dutifully filled-out all the info in the little owner's manual as soon as he got it--- on 6/7/84. Dan's B'day is 6/7. (The year is different, but still-- his birthday and the bike's are the same!!)


He was understandably trashed three hours after we got home, when he was supposed to get up for work, so for the first time in 15 years, he called in sick. He really did feel like crap and had a GIANT headache that had been building all night.  When we finally got up, we went out and played with his new toy. He was a happy dude.

After taking turns zooming (okay, in my case-- putting tentatively) around the house (literally- we just drove it around the yard, down the driveway, making a circle around our house), we decided to go kayaking. So we spent a few hours on the river. Dan admitted skipping IS pretty awesome. (He never does this-- nevar.)

And our garage now looks like this. Actually, it gets worse. On the other side are my kayak, and the Super Awesome Rad Bike, plus art supplies, plus all the regular "garage-y" stuff.

All in all, not a bad weekend, even if it lasted three days.

Field Trip!

Hey people. Last week an old art pal of mine (okay- she's not old, but we're pretty good buds is what I mean) came up to my place and we went on a little expedition to a junk yard one town over.

For those of you who've never been to a junk yard-- if you're going (for art purposes anyway), be sure to bring a couple buckets, some gloves, shoes you don't care about getting dirty (this actually goes for all your clothing), a camera, and a big smile-- because until you win them over the junk yard guys are going to think you're a total weirdo & not want to let you in.

You need to convince them you aren't going to be a big pain in the butt, or try to make off with any saleable parts, or sue them if you get a scratch or whatever, and you aren't going to be high maintenance and need a whole bunch of help that will take them away from their actual work.

Once we convinced them to let us into the inner sanctum (the main yard), and that we were only after basically garbage (to them)-- little rusty do-dahs laying around on the ground etc, we began scavenging. That's when I first saw her---

The first thing I said was, "Oh honey..." because to me she was beautiful, and a little dangerous looking, with her chicken wire windshield. What kind of a life did she live before winding up here? Then I saw the remains of her race number.

Her and everybody else probably thought she was done for. End of the line. Wrong. Not now that I've seen her. WAY too cool to let her just up and die in a field somewhere. I'm plotting how to haul her to my place, maybe in one piece, maybe in sections. The junk yard main cog told me I can have her cheap. She's not restorable. All I see is beauty here-- and stories.

She has friends too. Check out this crackling paint. Pretty cool huh?

Hmm. Same age as me. Maybe it's no coincidence I find all the "flaws" and "destruction" on these old beauties are what makes them the most interesting. The broken glass shone like jewels.

Look at this design. You just don't see this anymore-- well, that's not totally true-- there is good design out there, but it's kind of like music I guess-- I have a deep appreciation of the roots, even as I enjoy the new. Look at the moss growing on the frame. Cool.

When I saw this hood I thought "Blue Roan." I've got a big horse in my brain right now. I recently saw a half-Percheron, half-Frisian-- huge and gorgeous-- thick arched neck, sculpted muscular legs, kind of a short back for his height, compact head. I see it dappled-- blue, white, & blue-gray steel. But roan would be cool too.

Look at this transformation-- the bleached paint with rust coming through, like a beach-- waves on a beach.

After filling our buckets we headed over to some other art bud's place to see what they've been up to. There was so much more awsomeness it won't all fit in one post. I decided to do a whole post just dedicated to that visit over on the art blog, so check over there later today.

In other SueNews:

Around the old hacienda it's the cat's favorite time of year-- when they find little spots in the perennials or underbrush to take a nap jungle style.

That is when they're not sacking-out on the deck...
(This is Ray.)

Rough life huh?
(This is Tootie, Mike's main squeeze- Yes, they're still a "thing".)

This was funny-- the other day me and Trusty Pam went up to St. Cloud to check out the "Jail Trail". (We're trying to expand our horizons.) No sooner had we got the bikes off the car than this young guy, about 20 or so, goes, "I think I've heard of you-- Is that Penny?"

I almost died laughing! "Yep-- this is her. You can touch her for a quarter." That's right, Penny is now famous.

The Jail Trail was fun, interesting, lots flatter than our normal trail (Hillside), but TONS of trees super tight against the trail, and tons of twists etc. Very, very tight trail. Pam was in the lead, and I was just thinking how she should probably always lead when we check out a new trail because I'm way more cautious and it would probably frustrate her to follow me. I'd for sure do a slow recon run, then maybe hit it again if I still had any gas in the tank, or just come back and be bolder next time.

I was just thinking of some witty remark to make like, "I may be more cautious, but you def get more bloody," (I have the record for the most spectacular, bone breaking crash, but Pam def has the record for the most blood spilled, and most "dismounts.")-- when WHAM. She totally nailed a tree with her knee. She got a point-- blood all the way to the sock = 1 point.

We walked for a while until it seemed to bleed a little slower at least. We didn't get very far before we got to this weird rickety bridge with no sides and missing boards going through a swamp. At the end it dropped off into a patch of really gnarly, super bumpy roots. I was leading now and Penny bucked like a champ but we made it. A little while along I go, "Wow-- those were bumpy huh?" -- Nothing.

I look back and no Pam. I stop and wait. No Pam. I get off my bike and jog back down the trail-- here comes Pam, looking a little shaky-- she went over the bars into the roots. By now she was kind of a wreck, so we walked a bunch more. Of course we had no bug spray. Eventually she felt up to riding again and we took whatever shortcuts we could find back to the lot. We'll have to go back and try for a clean run someday.

My times at the trail are stuck at the 55 minute mark. I can now ride some stuff I couldn't last year, so there is progress being made, but I am not in great shape yet, and probably carrying some extra weight. Next week I'll weigh in and face the music.

Kate though--- sent me this awesome pic of her and Megan riding in a 30 mile ride at their place! They've never ever tried anything like this so it was huge for them. They actually made it the whole ride. Megan said after she probably could have had a better time on her own bike, not having to wait for her mom. (Hmm, not too sure about that, but approve of her spirit.) She's the kid I never had-- she got all riled-up when people would pass them and want to pour it on. Next year she may get a chance to try it on her own bike.

I think it's awesome they were both willing to go outside the box and risk failure to try something new. I'm so glad they had a good experience! Kate-- your seats are kind of low for road riding though! (God-- everyone in this pic's are.)

They grow-up so fast. ~sniff~

Hey people. It's pretty close to Penny's birthday. I got her just about exactly a year ago. Last weekend she rode in her second race-- her first for real one with an actual racer on her-- let me explain.

You may have heard me mention awesome girl racer Sam before? Her bike broke during the race, flat tire I think-- so anyway-- she was in a pinch so I let her borrow Penny. Sam had major skid marks all over her legs from her wipe-out, but hopped on Penny and finished the race.

Some of you guys tend to think I'm really out-there or athletic or whatever for doing the stuff I do, but seriously, if you met the actual racers like Sam-- you'd quickly see I'm just a civilian for sure (so far).

I talked to a couple other racers Sunday (girls). One was injured, but her lap time-- riding hurt, and just "for fun", with stopping and checking stuff out, not being in any big rush, is the same as my having a heart attack panting and drooling lap time-- 55 minutes. Another racer, who is admittedly "fast", was disappointed in her double lap time of an hour twenty minutes.

That's going twice around the whole course! Taking no more than 40 minutes per lap!!!

I will have to work like mad to get my lap time down to 45 minutes. And that's only going once around!

To give you an idea of how hard core & insane these people are: The top finishing "advanced men" racers finished w/in 2 seconds of each other. (One is the guy I told you about last year who tied in a race because he waited for his competitor to change a flat tire on the course.) The day before, they both raced in a 100 mile race. Yes-- 100 mile race.

After taking first and second going two laps at the nearly eight mile very hilly trail, they RODE HOME something like 45 miles (they're friends who live near each other apparently).

So, uh-- yeah. I'm not hard-core at all. :)

But I will still keep working at this and having fun, and maybe, MAYBE feel fast enough to go in another race by fall or something. After all, Penny is now one up on me!

Next post will be about my awesome junk finding / artist lair exploring day. ~score~

Honda Ho-down

Hey people. So, I'm still drooling over that little Honda. I called the seller again and left a message saying "Please, please, please don't sell it to anyone else and call me as soon as you get the title." Now Dan wants one too (maybe). He likes cool old stuff too, and has this idea of us taking them on vacations with us to go exploring around together. That sounds super fun.

Here is a video of some of the exploits last weekend. You can see my bro-in-law John tooling around on my future ride, at one point Dan almost hits him on the ATV. Craziness!



In other SueNews:
Super excited about going to the junkyard today. Another art pal is coming along. She's changing mediums-- going from stained glass to metals. She's working in a number of ways with her art and is super talented. I can't wait to see what she comes up with. Anyway, it will be fun going to troll through junked-out cars etc.

Trusty Pam got herself a road bike a couple weeks ago and has been putting on beaucoupe miles. Tonight it's FINALLY going to not be raining. (There have been three times it literally started raining the minute we were ready to go ride or run in the last week-- sucks!) I'm going to attempt to keep her in sight on my Hula Bike (aka- the dork).

I am so out of shape it's not even funny right now. Such a disappointing turn-around from late winter when I was confident I'd be 10lbs lighter, in super shape, and maybe even entering mountain bike RACES this spring. Now I'm just struggling to get back into reasonable condition so stuff feels doable and fun again.

I can tell my mood has been dragged down by not being able to get out and move as much. Maybe in a couple weeks (if the weather cooperates) I'll be playing a different tune.

Stop Not Doing Stuff!

Hey people. That's what I'm yelling at myself today, but because of fun plans with a couple art pals, "real work" (actual welding) will start tomorrow I guess.

We creatives have a method when we feel depleted and tapped-out. We say we're "filling the well." It's kind of like doing math in your head, kind of like keeping the goose that lays the golden eggs alive. To the outside world you may look bogged down in inertia, but at times like this, your main job is to collect ideas and let your brain run it's self-check.

So yesterday here was pretty much the only outward sign of productivity-- new hangers. Take that laundry! Yes, it was a mighty blow I struck against disorganization and un-hung-up clothing the world over. ~wipes sweat from brow~

In my head though-- a whole bunch of amazing crap was going on. For one thing (stop smirking Katie) I guess I have a new obsession... You guys, I'm like, getting this, almost for sure. Dan's on board and everything.

Check out the original ad from the early 70's-- Sure it can't go over 50 mph, but it can carry 450 lbs I guess, and just LOOK at it you guys-- it's so cool! Plus-- it's almost like they jumped into some time machine and already knew about my unlikely gun incident last weekend. Not to mention-- her outfit looks amazingly like Tina's. Now I guess I'll have to get my own bad-ass jumpsuit to ride around town in. It's going to take a lot of practice to ride standing on the seat like this though, shooting off a gun... (Just kidding. About the gun.)

Here's the original ad copy:

"Remember her sister? The Trail 55? This kid is the Trail 90 and she packs 30% more oomph. Load her with 450 pounds. She’ll make out better over the rough terrain than anyone in the business. The big push comes from the OHV single cylinder 4 stroke engine. She’ll climb over 50% incline if you feel so inclined. And deliver 160 miles per gallon. The Trail 90 comes with an automatic clutch, extra hand brake and the only standard equipment spark arrestor approved by the USDA forest service. If you like the athletic type try the new Honda Trail 90. Price? $330 plus a modest set-up charge. Contact your local Honda dealer for more information. "

Check out the rad helmet I could get--

Or this "Speed Racery" one!

160 miles per gallon people. Just think of how many trips to Target and Cub I could get in on a tank of gas! So anyway-- that's fun.

I also looked at tons of metal sculptures on line (more filling the well). When I do this I'm not looking at stuff and going, "Yeah, I could make something like that." It's just that as I look new ideas kind of take shape, or threaten to-- unformed almost-ideas begin floating through the goo. It's kind of like your brain becomes a lava lamp.

Another exercise is being open. (This goes with Sue-point-oh too.) If I get an idea, play the "what if?" game all the way out. So when I had an idea of a side business running a concession stand, that led to a whole bunch of ruminating about menus, start-up costs, environmental impact, partnerships, investigating expenses, etc etc.

Let's just say I'm not running out and buying a booth anytime soon. But I do really like the idea of a micro business-- super lean, super simple. I could see having a little soup-of-the-day delivery route on my new motorcycle or something. "The souper- cycle?" Then again-- I'd rather just do art, and maybe start writing again eventually.

Also-- I know I haven't mentioned Penny much lately, but that's because it's been really wet. I unfortunately let myself get REALLY out of shape in the last month. I rode a few days ago and the trail totally kicked my BUTT! Somehow I've back slid a tiny bit. I'm better than I was last year, but-- not feeling very zippy or confident right now.

This doesn't mean I'm getting less interested in riding though. I think it's really important for me to keep doing it and learning, and challenging myself. This is super mental for me as well as physical. It is physically very demanding, but I work through a lot of fear to get to the fun, but when I get there, it's such a great feeling of accomplishment and, well, joy.

That's pretty big.

Sue-point-oh

Hey people. So, interesting weekend in Suelandia...
The mountain bike race Sat got canceled -- too muddy, so I wound-up going up to my sister and brother-in-law's cabin with Dan for a big family get-together. Some of you who know me, know this is the kind of thing that makes me incredibly crabby. I have a weird aversion to family gatherings. It has nothing to do with the folks involved or anything. They just trigger this weird "must escape" anxiety in me and I'll do about anything to avoid them, or at least make them as short as possible. BUT--

In the interest of Sue-point-oh and the possible shift further out of my box I seem to be undergoing, I decided to try to reprogram myself about this and "be different." ( If you're going to break-down, at least try to break OPEN.) I thought about a couple of things I've learned from guys in my life lately. (You never know who will teach you something new.)

I've really had a blast over the last year working over at the trail with that crew-- pretty much all guys. The thing about hanging-out with guys is, it's like how you made friends when you were a little kid. "I like playing in the woods." "Yeah? Me too!" "Awesome. Want to blow off this potato gun with me?" "Okay." --Simple. No psychoanalysis, no politics, no personal over-sharing. "Let's just go play." There's a relaxing level of acceptance, a joking camaraderie that's really refreshing, especially to a girl.

Then there is my sis's hubs. Sometimes the people who drive you the most nuts are the ones who have the most to teach you. I've been thinking about what it is about him that makes him such a stress-fest. Sure there's all the ways in which he's a big ass at times, but even when he is being super cordial and trying to extend himself and being nice, there's always a bunch of tension around him. I decided it's because even when he isn't being difficult, it's because he's making a concentrated effort to "go along' with stuff-- being magnanimous about it, not actually enjoying it. The stick is never actually removed.

I don't want to be, but I know I've been that person-- the difficult one, the one sitting there judging everything and being a big pain in the ass. This family gathering was a chance to shake things up. I decided to try to be more like the guys I like hanging out with-- to be in the moment and just take things for what they are, and try to get as much fun out of everything as possible. It worked, and man-oh-man, did I get out of the box!

One thing about Dan's sister's family, whose cabin this was, is that they are BIG hunters. As most of you know-- I am NOT. Normally, our ideological/political differences would shade everything about this day for me (even though I like all the people) (I know, me = head case), but today I was determined not to let it. So when we got there and were being given the tour and saw this on the way to the giant pole barn, I just thought, "Cool! How funny someone would go so far to rock-out a trailer." And it is pretty bad-ass and cool.

First order of business was to go on a tour of the property, over 100 acres of Wisconsin woods. Cool-- I love walking around in the woods. Turns out, this was to take place on a whole slew of gas-powered contraptions. This was the first one out of the barn-- yes-- it's a motorized bar stool. Note the flames painted on the plywood floorboard.

Rednecky? Yeah-- but look how fun!

That turned out to be my ride. It doesn't look like it, but that thing went pretty darn fast, not to mention it was super top-heavy (tippy), and had no suspension what-so-ever, and whenever you turned the barstool swiveled, so it was a bit of a job to stay on it-- but SUPER FUN!

After everyone else mounted-up, we hit the series of trails through their woods-- a rag-tag zoomy parade consisting of a fat tired dirt bike, an old-school honda trail bike from the 70's (I totally want one of these now), 2 atv's, a go cart that had to be driven with 2 feet and one hand because the throttle stuck and you had to pull the gas pedal up by hand to slow it down, an old state patrol electric golf cart, and the flying bar stool.

We raced, passed each other dangerously (okay, mostly me on the bar stool, Dan on an atv, and our nephew on the go cart did this), and whenever we got to a clearing (there were a bunch of these they've cleared for hunting purposes) everyone would zoom all over like maniacs before zipping back into the trees. Green? No. Fun? YES!

After that, and some sandwiches, my Brother-in-law and his son began dragging these out. Yes, you're not seeing things, that's a dinosaur on the right.

Then they got out a whole bunch of bows and arrows and anyone who wanted to could learn how to shoot arrows at the rubber animals. I did not think about how anti-killing I am, or how playing around with weapons is toeing the line of savagery. I just saw it as a chance to try something new and went for it. No rubber animals were actually harmed after all.

Well, okay. That is not true. These things were bristling with arrows many many times over the next couple hours. I shot the larger pig in the butt, but mostly killed the grass just beyond all these critters. Eventually people began improvising. That's a beer bottle on the deer's head.

Wow, how much more out of the box could I get huh? Oh, I've only just begun people. After all the arrow shooting, they brought out a bunch of GUNS. Yes-- you heard me-- guns. I punched stop on the tape that automatically begins playing in my head, about how anti-gun I am and "what is wrong with these people?" etc etc, and instead I said, "I've always kind of wanted to shoot off a handgun."

WHAT?????? Yeah, that's right. Do I want to own one? No. But I have always wondered what it felt like. Here was a chance to find out. So we all headed off to one of the clearings where they'd made a little shooting range tucked up against a hillside piled with old tires. I shot off this 22 and a 9 mil that jerked up hard when you pulled the trigger. It was an interesting experience, and everyone laughed when I squeaked every time I shot.

Earlier in the day, I was talking with my nephew's wife-- talking her into trying out the barstool. She'd been just riding behind him on an atv. I said, "It's all about regret aversion today. You know if you don't try it, tomorrow you'll be mad at yourself. Just do it! If you try it and it's not fun you're not out anything." After that it seemed like a couple of the girls got a little more darey, and were all trying all the stuff out like me. ~svengalli-like vibes~ Gotta luv it.

While everyone else was trying the guns, I went back to the archery area to find my two brother-in-laws who'd stayed behind to see what they were doing. As usual when guys are left to themselves-- hijinx had broken out. They were standing across the large front lawn from each other, shooting arrows into the sky trying to see who could get closest to hitting the other guy. I freaked-out at first too, but the arrows they were using were these special kind of blunt tipped ones that I'm sure were still dangerous, but probably not deadly.

I watched for a while, laughing and going, "oh my god", then screwed up the courage to try a thing that I've been too scared to try my whole life-- riding a motorcycle.

The first time I saw it when John wheeled it out of the barn I was drawn to it-- the little '74 Honda Trail 90. Isn't it adorable? (I TOTALLY want one now you guys!)


He showed me how to work it (kind of-- I never did really shift it), and I took off around the yard at first, laughing my butt off and squealing like a girl, then I rode off down the dirt road and cruised the shooting range waving and hooting. On the way back I buzzed my niece and nephew who were now fooling around on the golf cart and flashed them the metal horns. I felt uber bad-ass.

After this all the girls of course had to try it out. My sister-in-law Mary, who survived this funky kind of brain cancer last year, freaked-out and rode it right into the woods and crashed into a tree, but thankfully neither she nor the bike were damaged.

When I recounted all this to my sister she goes, "did you start running around barefoot and playing the banjo too?" (smart alecyness is a family trait) -- and she's right-- everything about this day was way out of the box for me-- but i had a great time, and everyone was really nice, and for once I felt pretty comfortable. It helped how there was a lot going on, and I could keep moving, but it also helped to just take it all moment to moment.

Crazy In The Coconut

Hey people. Yesterday I had a meeting with a client for a new commission, nice people, cool project-- but because of rush hour traffic & construction, it took over three hours of driving to get me to and from my roughly eight minute meeting. During that time my brain was flickering through all its channels like some jittery A.D.D kid off their meds.

That's when this song came on the radio. I was stunned to find a song that's actually as random and disjointed as my brain lately, but here it is.



There's a lot of stuff changing right now. The writing that used to be so preoccupying I could barely focus on real life has been abruptly stripped away. It feels like a break-up. When I start writing again, I'm not sure what the story will be about, but everything will have changed. I can feel that much.

Words are still very important to me. I feel kind of lost right now, like after you've been sick, kind of weak or something, and it's feels very off to not have a bunch of characters and their stories chattering to me-- scenes constantly unfolding. Then I'll hear a snippet of a lyric like, "You can judge the whole world by the sparkle that you think it lacks. Yes, you can stare into the abyss but it's staring right back." and it's like a dog whistle. I snap to attention, and my heart tugs.

I don't feel like myself at all right now, well, not the me I've been the last couple years. I can only assume I'm being broken down a bit to shake things up. Maybe Sue2.0 is in the works or something. When I got back from vacation-- I couldn't even believe this myself-- for some stupid reason I was actually afraid to go ride Penny. (I know.) It took me a few days to get around to it. I told myself it was intuition and to just go with it, but I felt really super weird, and ashamed of myself too.

When I did finally ride, everything was fine, I hadn't lost too much ground aside from feeling really out of shape, and I had the same old big smile on my face when I was done, infused with energy. But I felt so vulnerable just before going, not my usual eager boldness.

These feelings, although hard to describe or explain, make me think there is room being made in my psyche for something. Maybe my creativity is being reshuffled. I don't know. I'm trying to hold on to the stuff I feel I do know, but be open to new changes.

Here's some stuff on my list:

I want to be a force for good- to spread the awesome. I like to help people find or express their own awesomeness.

I enjoy finding humor in life (lucky for me).

I sometimes wish I had a bigger tribe, and wonder if being kind of an oddball keeps people away. I can't really change that, and don't want to even try to become some homogenized version of myself though.

I've made creativity my life's work. That takes a lot of leaps of faith, but it's a great gift and makes things interesting.

I might change this blog. When I started it, it was to create an internet presence for my edgy young adult novel writing endeavors. Now-- who knows? It's become fun. I've met some cool people through it, but I don't know that it really has any mission beyond connecting with people and sharing my life, such as it is. I'm considering "Suelandia". Any thoughts on any of this? Any of you ever feel like this? -- or is it just more of my odd-ballishness?

Dorkville

Hey people. In case any of you didn't know what I meant when I said me and Katie go right back into dork mode when we get together... Behold!



In the interest of full disclosure, all this footage was actually from my last trip, in dec. This is the kind of thing we get up to when we know we only have about an hour or two of fun time before being inundated with kidstuff.

This trip was more laid back, well, except for sex-robot dancing and pretending to be Charlie's Angels, annoying our husbands with dramatic, loud bad-singing along to the radio, and imitating anyone nearby, including each other.

We did wind-up going to Forever 21 one day. I'm always surprised no alarm goes off when we walk into that place. We were so busy having fun I didn't even think to capture any of it on film. We had a blast pretend trying on the clothes just like in the video though, and holding impromptu dance parties while gelled, skinny-jeans-wearing male sales associates gave us murderous glares of disapproval.

One thing about being 40 & over that is awesome-- such intimidating tactics have absolutely no effect on you. At all. If anything it just eggs us on. At one point I announced, to any of them within earshot, "Look, we're over 40. Don't fuck with us." Then I pretend put-on a super poufy, flouncy micro-mini that looked like it was made out of cotton candy that had been trimmed into some kind of poodle from outer space get-up.

Rough, gravelly, rednecky manvoice-- "No dawtah uv mahn is leavin' the house dressed like a common hohr!"
(Most of the dresses in this place leave you wondering if they really are supposed to be a dress or some kind of long shirt. They barely cover your butt!)
Whiny, Texas, drawly, girlvoice-- "Bhutt Daiddy!" ~stomp~
~bows at the end of this "Forever 21 theater" performance~
"What? No-- I don't need a dressing room. Go tag something Justin Beiber."

The only thing that would have made it more awesome would have been if school was out so we could have single-handedly de-cooled a bunch of stuff for the local teens. We can't wait until Megan is about 13 and we can follow her and her little tweeny pals around and embarrass the crap out of them. ~rubs hands together~

Taking Texas

Hey people. You know I have only one reason to set foot in the lone star state, and here she is, mah seestah-- Katie. (Isn't she cute??) ~hugs~ This is where I've been for the last couple of weeks, visiting her and her brood.

I've bagged on Texas plenty in the past, and God knows there's tons of material-- the flatness, the hotness, the boringness, the redneckiness. (It was in the nineties, both temp AND dewpoint when I was there, with 20-30 mph winds. Yes, my hair was awesome the entire time. Not.) But I have to admit this time, there was also some pretty...

Wild flowers planted along the highways by Ladybird Johnson were in full bloom on our drive up to the hill country (what they call the San Antonio / Austin region-- the only coolness I've seen so far in the entire state.) (Figuratively and literally. It's about 10 degrees cooler up there than where she lives.)

We've been planning a girl get-away for, not kidding people-- eight years! Finally, the kids are old enough to leave for a weekend, the stars aligned, we both had a little cash, and our plan, albeit scaled down from our dreams of a week at a spa, came together.

This was the view from our eff-you-money hotel room on the riverwalk in San Antonio. I usually opt for budget lodging, but this trip was different. Let the hedonism begin!

This place was fancy. Click on the pic so you can read this. It's the pet room service menu. "All pet meals are served with Fiji water on appropriate petware."

Yeah. Good thing. Serving the Contessa Salmon on regular old peopleware would be tacky central.

The Riverwalk is super cool. It's a river that runs right through downtown San Antonio, and there are sidewalks on both sides, lined with hotels, shops, and restaurants, and little bridges to cross back and forth. There are also tons of huge trees and garden areas. We strolled for hours and had an awesome four-star dinner out.

After our all girl weekend, it was time for some serious family time. The following week was a blur of errands, piano lessons, dance classes, t-ball games, & soccer, but later in the week Dan flew down to join me, and we all (me, Dan, & Kate's family) drove back up to their lake home in the hill country for the weekend.

This was at this really cool restaurant we went to that was like eating in a tree house.

Me and the boy have had our issues in the past, but now he seems to get that my intentions are good. He still doesn't like to be told what to do, but doesn't resent it as much, and seems to really like me, and know I like him too. The kid has music in his soul. He wanted me to take pics of him busting out some "moves". Ta-Daaah.

Cute little fart isn't he?

He's almost six, and scary smart. This takes almost everyone off guard because half the time he's in his own world, or acting like a little monkey boy. He'll be spazzing out about some dumb thing, like wanting to sit in the seat his sister is already occupying one minute, and you're going, "Oh boy, this kid acts more like a 3 year old than nearly six," but five minutes later he's whipping through his homework like it's nothing. Ho-hum. Too easy. Boring stuff.

I can't wait to see how he turns out. He's funny and definitely his own little dude. I would not be a bit surprised if he's some kind of musical prodigy. I want to buy him drums.

Him and Megan are usually at each other's throats, but have moments of fun goofing around, or joining forces against the evil overlords (their parents.) Here Megan is dipping him a-la dancing with the stars. He always gives it all he's got, arm flourish and all.

Meg and I have always had a big connection, and still do. Our relationship is changing as she gets older. We had our first big altercation this trip, but got through it. She knows, for a fact, I'll always, always be in her corner.

She's turning out to be a little adventurer. Feels very familiar. Loves the water.

This is a friend of hers-- she wanted to make sure that part was clear, a friend-- (she like likes another boy. What does that mean when you're eight? I think that you enjoy imagining dramas playing out involving you, the boy, and other classmates whispering about the status of your liking of each other.) Anyway, they were seeing who could do the best armpit farts right before I shot this. ~sigh~ Ahh the good old days. Mini me.

Look out world.

Me and sis, of course have our own thing. We manage to maintain a pretty close relationship even though we're miles apart and our lives could not be more different. When we get together we go right back into dork mode. We watched Charlie's Angels- Full Throttle on our girl weekend, but I really can't use that as much of an excuse for these pics. We always seem to adopt ass-kicking poses when there's a camera around.

Quake in fear people. It's the finger twist of doom! Don't mess with Kate or she will beat you senseless with those Grover arms of hers.

Sorry about the acres of forty and over skin showing in these next two. Avert your eyes, get therapy, or whatever you have to do to get through this trauma. For the poolside antics we somehow began dancing like robots when Dan got the camera out. We were excited about going to see "Date Night" later-- "Sex robots!" (go see it to get the joke.)

We amuse ourselves to no end. Someone's got to.

Having Dan along was fun for Katie (she calls him the third sister. He's not very into that nickname not surprisingly) and medicinal for me. Katie said I seemed way less stressed this trip. He tempers me. I get super pissed at her control-freaky, patriarchal hubs, but I can't say stuff like, "OMG pull the stick out!" or "For shit's sake-- they're only PLACEMATS dude, shut up and let your wife pick them out!" without making life much harder for her. If I lived down there we'd have to have a war and he'd now be calling me "your highness" or something and quivering with subservience every time I came around, but alas.

It helps to have Dan around to vent to, and remind me how good I have it. Here I'm helpfully instructing him on how to clean the pool so no icky things threaten to float near me on my giant pool toy. He's way up on my care and feeding.

Katie, meanwhile, finds little ways to preserve her Katieness, and expose her kids to ideas like recycling (which is considered extremist down there-- they don't have pick up or anything, and no one does it) and kindness to animals, and volunteering, and being creative and tolerant. She is a very cool woman. I could not thrive in her life, but she manages to.

I was ready to come home by the end, as usual. I get very wiped-out by the mini-van lifestyle, even though I love seeing those guys. This is what greeted me the morning after we got back.

and this

and this.

It's good to be home.