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The time has come. Lea is finally starting a blog. Shudder.1) For those of you who don’t know me - I pity you. For those of you who do, I congratulate you.2) The main drive behind this piece of utter narcissism3) is that I’m going to Lesotho for my peace corps assignment and certain family members insist that I keep in touch4). However, I will certainly not limit my scope to family members, so be warned - no self-censoring.5) I'll update this every now and then to let everyone know I'm still alive and kicking, and share my immense wisdom of 23 years, and to try to be funny.6) Note that this does NOT mean don't send me emails asking how I am or whatnot7), but really just that I'm fairly free expressing myself in writing, at a distance, and that would not transfer well to actual conversations.

So, recent events of the summer. Attempted to ride my bike to Wilmington, NC - failed miserably.8) I set out a lovely afternoon around 4 in the afternoon, rode happily for a couple of hours, then rode with increasing misery for a couple more. I was navigating with an atlas and a coordinate GPS9), so I managed to quickly get myself lost by assuming I knew the roads around my house. Lost probably about an hour with that. At about 8 I had my first real pit stop, at one of those cheese biscuit southern institutions gas stations.10) There, I bought a lot of energy bars (I had brought some, but not nearly enough, I had by then realized), and water, and gatorade. I had already gone through 3 liters of water, which I guess isn't too surprising considering I was hauling about 60lbs on the bike, in the lovely North Carolinian humidity.

Uhhhh….Where was I?

The store, right. I had a couple of elderly 'gentlemen'11) ask me about my ride - they were suitably impressed.

“Is that your bike?” “It sure is.” “Damn.” “Where're you goin'?” “Wilmington, from Washington.” “Damn.” “How many miles?” “About a hundred and thirty.” “DAMN!”

And so on.

By the time I left it was dark, with only the lingering twilight left to navigate by.12) I was pretty exhausted by this time, so I was looking for a couple of trees to hang my hammock up on. I eventually passed a house with a row of pines separated from the house by some bushes, which looked perfect. I stopped. A minor mental storm ensued, debating the pros and cons of asking if I could sleep in the trees. Eventually I did knock, multiple times, and though a light came on no one ever answered. Ah well. One does what one can.

How I wished I would never have to say those words.
By which I mean I'm so sorry. I hear there's a support group.
Other than being an utter narcissist, of course.
Oh how the demands of society weigh on me.
Just kidding, I'm going to censor the everlasting @#*$5@ out of myself.
I might use a few footnotes - just every now and then. Not like I would overuse them or anything. If there's something you don't like on here, or something you would like to discuss with me about what I wrote, please don't.((So awkward.
Though that's the purpose of the blog…
A good failure though, the kind one learns from
Not the turn-by-turn kind.
You know, the ones that don't accept credit cards out side, and that have a restaurant inside, of questionable sanitation, and is a bit of a general store. Which makes sense, because it was probably the only store in the town.
I use that term in the loosest sense possible.
And my flashlight, I guess.
wiki/lifeandtimes.1408199416.txt.gz · Last modified: 2018/03/06 08:59 (external edit)
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