Trust Me. Buy The Ticket. It’s a Fabby Ride.

This RIDE will be well worth your price of admission.

In the summer of 2012, I found myself essentially unemployed (taking a true summer break). Uninhibited by professional development or academic research (that I should have been doing in order to keep my job) or domestic work (at which I refused to excel and thus will never be able to make my case for hiring a cleaning lady), or philanthropic works (in the fall I would once again be a teacher, so by definition I was already a missionary)… I began WRITING again.

By 19, I was a fully formed derelict debutante (sometimes aka a tomboy debutante).  I liked to drink, dance, smoke, screw around, shoot, drive, read, write, swim, and laugh.  I still enjoy all of these things, actually.  I am not one of those people who “take stock” of their life because they are about to turn 40 (Gah! now closer to 50), becoming maudlin and annoying, bemoaning their age. I can’t believe I’m still here, much less that I’ve lasted this damn long.

I will freely admit that I have become a fairly talented derelict, who has neglected her passion for writing in exchange for devotion to other, various, worldly pursuits, including the joys of lime and tequila, the consequences of my limited social filter, travel, whisky and wine and cigars, drag queens, movies, chlorine, Hong Kong Fooey paraphenalia, an Elvis jello mold, dogs, painting, cooking, and a reverent dedication to finding the world’s most perfect BLT.

For years I have been working on a memoir with the ultimate goal of publishing it and having a book tour in which I can enjoy crisp clean hotel sheets on someone else’s dime. Still working on that.. One problem is that I have pissed off a lot of people in my days and some of them are wealthy, some powerful, some mean, some crazy, some who write my paychecks, and some who are even related, so I let fear turn into overwhelming procrastination.

I procrastinated for so long that most of these assholes are mentally unstable, in rehab, jail, or dead. Which is good news for me and my writnig. Stay tuned… the best is yet to come.




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