Pulling the Trigger

Well, I have finally done it. I have posted my very first blog. And then 2 more. All retroactive....does that count? I have been somewhat paranoid to put my words out there in the big bad old world, but while I am a little chick getting its bearings, who's reading anyway? Even if someone happens to google "wayward" and "chicken" in the same search, the only thing they're getting is some crazy amalgamation of songs called "Carry On My Funky Wayward Chicken."

What the what? Who cares who reads these words? They are for me, and the title I have come to realize means very little in the grand scheme, even if I spent many hours testing out names in the dead of night, rolling each one off my tongue like reading off a shopping list, annoying my boyfriend trying to sleep and who really hates the "name game" anyway. Every time I say, "Babe, what do you think of this one," spouting some random, half-nonsense website name to him, he rolls his eyes and walks away from me with a half-huff, half-sigh thrown back in my direction before I can even finish the dotcom.
 
So I pulled the trigger. We are live. I am blogging. For chrissakes, blogging. I hate that word. Always have. Really, couldn't they have come up with something better? Regardless, it gets me writing again. After this long, horrible drought that might be the longest in history (curious--what IS the longest writers block recorded? Who would record such a terrible thing?) I am writing again. It may be crap, longwinded, wayward, but it's there. A projectile bullet hurtling through space to who knows where. 

To celebrate the firing--after all, it DID feel pretty damn good--and to swallow the bullet I had just fired, we went to Toronado. We talked travel. The travel bug is upon us, with only now officially 7 days until Africa, we are both feeling buzzed, even without beer.  

How I am feeling right now