I can’t believe I failed to blog this until now…I misplaced my mental sticky note. The Velodrome in Atlanta has reopened, and it’s even in the hood!

The East Point Velodrome Association, Inc. (EPVA), is a 100% volunteer-based 501(c)3 nonprofit organization dedicated to the rehabilitation, care and growth of the Dick Lane Velodrome, located in East Point, Georgia.

The EPVA conducts Youth Service Activities for the children at no cost to the city or state. These activities include our highly acclaimed Bicycle Little League (for kids 8-12), Summer Camps (kids 13-16), and Bicycle Safety Clinics. In addition, to raising bicycle safety awareness, these programs promote physical health and wellness, teamwork and individual growth through the sport and positive alternatives to drugs and gangs. These pioneering grass-root programs will hopefully ignite positive changes in kids and in competitive cycling in the U.S.

The revitalization has been a community effort and a labor of love. They’re still short of their financial goals, so dig deep and make a contribution, come out and see a race, whatever. Support the little guy.

Tonight I embarked on another Maigh-out-of-her-element escapade as I adventured to a *stupid* big social outing…solo. Beth (pictured), Kim, Joanne, Chris, Sjohnna and Mike aka “The Girls” met me at Piedmont Park for the Screen on the Green playing of Mommie Dearest along with another 2 or 3 thousand of our closest friends. I drove there alone, walked alone, made a claim on some land and sat…and waited. Alone. Did I mention alone? Ok, but did I mention the crowd? All the way around it was an outstanding test for me, folks. I passed.

As for the rest of the night, a long story short is this –> this weekend is Pride in Atlanta and given that this is a classic camp movie, the queens abounded with their hoots and hollers at the overacting. Of course I chimed in right along with them, adding some heckling of my own.

Good friends, a little vino, some snackie poo’s, candle light and fresh air. I don’t know what more a girl could ask for.

FWIW, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the dirt.

Upstairs at Eric’s…Too Pieces. Still.

Darling you *know* I love you, but I just don’t have the time, energy or inspiration to post anything of substance today. As a tribute to Jason, you get pictures…and c’mon, it’s not like you can read anyway.

“Hunt your treasure”. Hm. No thanks.

The only thing Steve ordered that wasn’t fried was the plate

I ordered a double, and ate it all

Almost done packing. Kinda. OK, not really at all.

If you have a problem and you don’t do anything to fix it, you forfeit your right to bitch.

(and if you still have a problem, you’re an idiot and I don’t know you)

Not unlike Visa, this is acceptable and applicable everywhere you want to be. It’s so compact it fits in your purse and yet it’s versatile enough for the office, home, or play. You can use it in line at the grocery store, the car dealership, at your office Christmas party or even at your cousin Muffy’s wedding and no one will even know…unless you want them to.

Get ahold of yourself, your emotions and your life!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!

My knees hurt like hell, and not because of what shall be known henceforth as The Vespa Incident. Soft tissue damage, kiddies, and I’m in denial. Who has time for this kind of crap?

As for Tyler: a)update your damn blog b)I was going to order 4 other items from a similar genre to test you and the confidentiality of the site. Humorously, you failed.

Last night our kickball team won again: 5-0. O’DOYLE RULES!

Tonight I’ll drag out the luggage and start packing. More realistically, I’ll neatly arrange a bunch of stuff in a pile *near* the suitcase and think about the Tetris-ness of packing it. This is the only night I have this week to deal with planning, to pay bills, tidy the apartment or return calls. At the bigger brother’s request (Brian), I’ll even pack my pedals/shoes/shorts/helmet/etc. which is optimistic seeing as how I’m in so much flipping pain right now that I’m not bending my right leg when I walk. Maybe by this time next week I’ll feel well enough to ride with the boys if I take it easy until then.

I had a dream last night that I forgot all 3 of my wedding related dresses and shoes and then had to try to shop for new ones in Anchorage. If that’s not a nightmare, I don’t know what is.

Does anyone want to volunteer to feed Grover and water my plants while I’m gone? In all the day to day BS I seem to have forgotten that very important detail.

Happy Monday, darlings.

Getting up early was a sacrifice I gladly made for my baby girl, brutal though it may have been. Jack got her new shoes, tow hooks and nerf bars this morning all the way out in BFE…a good reason for a scenic drive. Looking glam having just inhaled a Regular #9 from Jersey Mike’s, we headed around the corner to Inman Park (the actual park, not to be confused by the neighborhood by the same name in which it resides) around 1p for FIELD DAY at Joanne’s invitation and to celebrate Chris’ birthday. Re: field day, think three legged races, tug of war, etc.

Here we see Chris rocking the Slip’N’Slide (right click, save file as…)

I arrived on time (terminal), helped set up, went and rode (is that the proper verb?) the swings in the adjoining playground with Angeliqe (insta-buddy), and waited for someone I knew (Joanne) to arrive. When she eventually did I’d long since made friendly with everyone else was off and hucking the Frisbee at mach with Chris (another one, not to be confused with the original) and then not-exactly-wiffle ball with Kurt and Chris. Just give me something to hit or throw and I’ll be amused/content, running around until I’m drenched in sweat, demonstrating my coordination skill challenges and my ability to laugh at myself with frightening intensity.

Codie arrived a few hours later on his Vespa and I asked him to teach me, since we’re fully aware it’s on my “list”. He fears nothing, this boy, even when he should. He explained the concept of shifting, we hopped on the black beauty, I kick started her and we were rockin’. Smooth down the hill, rollin’ through the first stop sign, to third gear – speedy, slick and stylish right up to an intersection in Little 5 Points with other vehicles. FREAK OUT, Maigh!

This is where I promptly feared the turning radius of the pseudo-vehicle going into an overly angular left turn, followed through with that thought by under compensating and promptly slammed us into a curb. Fucking awesome, dude…I sooooooo wrecked! We brushed it off, because that’s how we roll. Fierce. Awww yeah.

This is also where I jammed my ankle and where Codie, in an effort to not be thrown, held on for dear life…with his apparently need-to-be-cut nails. God bless him – he was completely caught of gaurd since he was trying to take a picture via camera phone at the time. HA!!! His trunk like legs touching ground are surely the only thing that saved it from being worse than it was.

I didn’t hop right back on the beast, but I will. The crash didn’t own me, it didn’t scare me that much, but I won’t deny I’m injured. My left ankle has a gash and is swelling rapidly, and the spot above my knee-cap on my right leg has a lump from hitting the handlebar and is showing signs of a dark rebellion forming beneath the skin. Maybe I should save the rest of the activities I want to try which also might endanger my ability to use my legs for after the marathon in November.

Come 5p I was spent, and though the festivities were attempting their official start, I made my leave. As usual, I’m typing on the couch and Prarie Home Companion is providing background noise. It’s 7:51 and with my departure for The Great White North looming only days away, I’ll take advantage of the last true “me” night I’ll have for the next few weeks by tucking in. G’night John Boy.