I'm pulling the wig down off the shelf

It's time. It's time to write again. It's time to find my voice and shout it, whisper it, sing it out into the world. It's time.

I thought about revamping Garfield Statue (my first and deepest-cutting blog), but looking back on that one, no, that wasn't the right way to be going. It was started when I didn't even know if I wanted to write. It was started a lifetime ago. This is not to deny its importance. I love Garfield Statue. I will probably bring over some posts from there. But it needs to stand.

I made some attempts at other mini-blogs. Hey there, all of you who tried to follow those starts and stops. I tried to theme them: my house, my body. You can't keep this girl to a single theme! Or, more accurately, you can't keep this lady on topic. The last one was started just a couple of months ago. It cracked the ice, greased the wheels. But it didn't feel right. This is where I want to be. This is feeling right.

It is time. I want this to be free! I plan to post my writing, obviously, but I also plan to post art, photos, and the song that's running through my head. If you want to say something, I might even post something from you!

Get up and dance! The song is starting!

Comments

Butterfly

It was a different time. Back then, you walked to school without a parent. I was supposed to walk with KC but I didn't really like talking to her and I suspect she wasn't that interested in me. I ended up walking by myself a lot of the time, which, even then, was something I liked to do. I liked having time alone in my own head. I don't remember the actual walk. We moved halfway through my kindergarten year, so it was never part of my routine, the way the walk to my future grade school would be. It was a suburban Detroit neighborhood, full of houses like the one I lived in. I believed that the world was like this: house after house. What did I dream about back then? What went through my head? One day I came home and there it was, in the center of our lawn: a huge monarch butterfly. I froze. I was terrified of butterflies. They clearly weren't natural: they were large and colorful and flew in random directions. I was pretty sure they had teeth. How could I possib...

Now I have one less

#MeToo

If you're on twitter, you're probably aware of the #MeToo that's going around. If you're not, briefly, it was a hashtag started to increase awareness of sexual assault and harassment. If women who had been sexually harassed or assaulted posted "#MeToo", the numbers would help raise awareness of how common this is. I posted "#MeToo." Like so many women, it happened to me. It happened on the train. I was taking the train I took every day for my ride into school. This train was packed until we reached the stations downtown where most people got off. The university stop was after all those stops. Most days there were only a few people left in each car. That day, there was just one guy. One guy sitting in the seats across the aisle from me. He locked eyes with mine, then started stroking his exposed penis. It took me a moment to even understand what was happening. I just froze. I honestly didn't know what to do. Do I leave, which let him know ...

Florence Onassis the Second

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