May I Come Out Now?

No, nothing so exciting as "coming out" coming out. Just. . .may I please have permission to crawl out from under the tree stump I've been living under for . . . what? A year? I mean, it's cramped and it's dark and it's cold down there and I'm really kind of tired living without Skirt! blogs. I miss reading all of the wonderful posts from the Old Guard and I'm certain that I'm missing out on some rock-star quality blogs from newer folks.

I have to admit, it's been somewhat of a LESS happy existence without writing or reading along with you all. I just really needed a break and also wanted to escape from prying eyes. As you probably read in my last blog prior to my disappearance, I'd rounded up quite a few new "fans." Which, of course, would've been fine if I'd been in any condition to deal with typical human behavior. But I wasn't. So, I had to sit through passive-aggressive dismissive remarks, flat out insults and constant questions about the identity of some of my featured characters. (Nooo. "Guitar Hero" is only featured twice in any given blog. And it's not because I am secretly in love with him. It's because, at the time of that writing, he was a total perv who was totally interesting to write about. He is my friend. His situations were interesting. He is also still available. . .ladies? Any takers?) Also, if I'd been told that my blog was "cute" one more time, I swear, I was gonna CUT somebody. (Not a very Skirty response, I know, but. . .cut me some slack, will ya?)

Despite the very kind support and encouragement from my Skirt-friends, I still choose to remove myself from the roster for a while. 

Also, I felt that I wasn't doing anyone any favors by continuing to write. As most bloggers do, the thought of "who REALLY wants to read this crap" starts worming it's way in and out of your mind. And when you're standing in the shadow of a writer's block the size of the Empire State Building, it's even tougher to believe that you've been able to crank out some quality product. I thought that by quitting the blog for a while, my creativity would return and then I could come back with some GREAT stuff.

But that's not how it works. At least, not for me. I did not write every day. I attempted to use my "Writer's Book of Matches" and all that did was frustrate me. Every word seemed just. . .so empty. So stupid. Running on the strength of will, I did manage to eke out a great submission for "This American Life," and then my computer blew up (literally, it BLEW up. Fried. Melted. I'll explain later. Basically, it amounts to squirrels chewing through electrical lines and blowing up my house.) and it could not be retrieved. And to those of you who know how I write (stream of consciousness, bursts of creativity followed by spans of glass-eyed and slack-jawed emptiness), you know that it means that the TAL piece is gone forever. I'll never get it back. Sure, I can re-create something similar, but the original genius of the entire piece is lost to me. It won't be the same. 

Anyhoo, I'm making the effort to do this again. I look back on some of what I created (but didn't share) while blogging here and I realized that this blog helped keep me a little sharper.

So, as of late, I'd been bouncing around the idea of returning. I thought, at one point, that I'd ask if I could start fresh, change my identity. But frankly, I don't want to do that. It's stupid of me to, as usual, fall into the trap of "what if someone doesn't like me"? Not only do I not want to do that, I'm here by refusing to do it. At least, I'll try. I need to learn how to manage other people's negative gamma-rays anyway. 

Last month, my step-grandmother (one hell of a pioneer for women in her town) asked me where she could find my blog; she said that she'd enjoyed reading it; she said that she could always *feel* all that I was trying to convey; that she didn't know where to find my writing anymore. I'd never known that she read more than one or two entries. So that kind of sealed the deal for me. I decided that I would start up again no matter who was (or wasn't) reading.

Other than NOT writing, not much has changed. I still love my husband. I still love my little doggie. I still have occasional difficulty managing my "condition" - though not as much if I'm eating properly - I still soak in the tub with my "Vogue" until I'm pruny, crying over all the pretty things I will never have. (It's fun. . .in a masochistic sort of way.)

So, I'm off to scan the "new" site (I haven't been on since everything was switched around! It's intimidating, but the site looks gorgeous!) and see if I can find some of my old favorites.

Lots of love, happy holidays, and I hope to see you around.