I swore that, despite my husband's gentle nagging, I would never cross the line and get my motorcycle license. Just not my cup of tea. Besides, my husband owns a Harley, and I found the roar annoying in a "look at me while I try to impress you with my manliness" kind of way.
And yet, just the other day, I found myself revving the engine of my Harley at a stoplight, enjoying the feeling of power beneath me and chuckling gleefully at the fact that in just a few minutes I would destroy the peace and quiet of my suburban neighborhood. Nearly a year with an M on my license. Yes, taking that motorcycle safety class was the most intimidating thing I have ever done. But I have to say, life looks better from the back of a bike.
In the spirit of crossing lines I never thought I would cross, I begin a blog. Chalk it up to midlife crisis and a need to prod myself into accomplishing a goal or two. I have always considered blogging an exercise in egocentric exhibitionism. I mean, really, who honestly cares about the inner workings of the average mind? Well, probably no one. But at this point, the need to exercise my brain supersedes my caring what anyone thinks. So off I go. Cornfields to my right, soybeans to my left, I skip into the sunset.