RRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!

That's the sound my sewing machine makes.  And it has been making it a lot the last week.  I'm working harder than ever, because several newer, shorter term goals have presented themselves to me, and I want to meet them.  I'm sick of where my life is, so I'm going to change it.

I know that I have obligations and responsibilities.  Duh.  But I'm not going to defer to everyone else and all of their goals and needs for the entire rest of my life in the name of being an unselfish person.

I'm important too.  There are people I want to meet and thank for having an intense and profound impact on my life.  (70% of those are musicians.)  I don't think it's right to let other people to persuade me that simply buying albums/soundtracks/books/products or sending an email is enough to let my heroes know how much they are appreciated.  I've been quietly told by the naysayers in my life how impossible or frivolous or impractical my dreams are, that I got to the point of not being able to look anyone in the eye.  That's just pitiful.

I will change this.  I want to meet people face to face and look them in the eye to tell them how happy I am for the moment they came into my life.  To do this, some extensive (and expensive) airfare will come into play.

New York.
Brisbane, Australia.
San Diego.
London, England.
Los Angeles.
Wellington, New Zealand.

But really... who cares?  People fly into and out of those cities EVERY FREAKING DAY.  Why not me?  Absolutely no reason why not.

Patiently feeding fabric through a sewing machine may seem an unusual way to reach my goals.  But I love what I create, and apparently other people do too, because orders are pouring in.  I'm going to meet my financial goals and live my dreams.

It starts in my soul.  Way down deep.  Stand back, y'all.  I'm spreading my wings.  And I am going to fly.