Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
Isabel is churning her way closer to landfall in North Caroline, and my crossed fingers and good vibes go out to all the people I know in her path. I hope the worst you all suffer is a little power outage, giving you a nice little break from your computer. Stay off the roads, stay out of the water, and watch your heads. I suggest books and junk food.
In the beginning of the week, I actually planned a trip out to hurricane alley to see Isabel up close and personal. My plan was to stay in Virginia and then drive down the coast where possible and catch the storm coming in. I wanted to see if I could capture some photos of Isabel for my portfolio, something that might stand out a bit and open a few doors. If you think it’s difficult gaining an entry into the world of professional writing, it’s even more difficult establishing bona fides for your photography. Most folks won’t even touch you if you haven’t published previously. And weblogs don’t count.
What changed my plans was getting a call from the motel I was going to stay at, canceling the reservation. I could have tried elsewhere, but by that time I was starting to come to my senses. Who the hell did I think I was? A female Indiana Jones?
I could see myself heading into unfamiliar territory in the midst of a deadly storm with my little bitty lightweight sedan, and either plowing into a flooded road, getting hit by a falling tree or other flying objects, or running into road blocks and pissing off the local constabulary. The folks there have a tough enough job helping out the people who live there without having to waste time on rescuing a middle-aged Laura Croft. Instead of being out in it getting a great photo, I’d most likely be at the motel or some shelter somewhere, sitting in the dark listening to the storm by the light of a flashlight.
Do you ever get these little brainstorms that leave you hitting your head going “Gah! What was I thinking?” What was I thinking?
At this moment, instead of being on the road driving to the coast I’m writing this, and putting more photo albums online, using a new approach I devised for the Mt Faux PhotoBlogs. I’m also thinking about joining the Pirate Talk day on Friday because it sounds like fun, and when was the last time I did something just for fun? Tomorrow I’ll write a bit more on a story I hope to interest a publication in buying (waiting ten weeks to hear will they or won’t they), and work on a possible money making idea because someday I have to make some money from all this writing and picture taking, or give it up as a hobby pure and simple, and apply for that job at Wal-Mart.
I’m in the mood for a bit of coding, too, which is getting rarer and rarer for me lately. I’ll be damned, maybe something in the For Poets series, too.
I’m glad I didn’t go see Isabel and add to the problems in the area, but there’s still a small part of me that’s disappointed that I backed out – the part that’s game for an Adventure. Not adventure, such as hiking the hills of Missouri or writing to a weblog or working on a piece of software or taking photos, but Adventure, with a capital ‘A’.
‘A’, as in Alive.
