12.06.06

Get this, I've started a "what the hell is this thing called freelancing" correspondence with a real, live freelance author. He writes for motorcycle magazines, and seems to be a really nice guy.

He's asking some interesting questions. (No, nothing like that. Gosh. I'm not ALL sex and heavy breathing. Dang.) Nope, he's asked what I'm interested in, where I see myself in five years, that sort of thing. I admit, I don't plan ahead very well. But if I want to go into the freelance gig, I suppose I'd best have some sort of attack-y thingie in my head.

We shall see.

In other news, went to the bi-monthly (semi-monthly?) motorcycle meeting last evening. D said, as we left, that he loved watching all the guys flirting with me. Flirting? I said, truly confused. I don't know if it's flirting. After all, it's just me. And you, he said, are hot. Stop denying it.

I am a vain, shallow, creature. Of course I loved hearing that bit.

At the meeting, a movie, "Mondo Enduro", was playing. It's the story of intrepid British motorcyclists who rode the longest distance around the world that they could in the shortest amount of time. About 40,000 miles and a couple of years later, they had their adventures in the can. It's amazing. And awfully tempting. I'd love to do somethig like that with a group of women. Maybe keeping it simple by staying in the states, maybe doing the four corners tour.

Jeez. How would I get the $$$ for that?!

Sorry, rambling a bit today. Maybe it was last night's Pabst at the Trap. Bleargh.

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