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10:14 p.m. Well, it's not been as easy as I thought. Ideally, this first piece after such a long hiatus should be lively and full of fun; informative ... yet snappy. You know? Not so. Let's just say that I want to break the ice and say hello again and get this relentless, obsessive habit of posting every day back into my life. I miss the structure and the order ... I miss the feeling that I have something to say ... I miss you. Weird, I know. Typing onto the one-way web membrane ... it's like shouting into a stiff breeze that takes your words before they can echo, and yet ... it always feels as if there's been a conversation. And many, many times I've felt as if I've made a little something, a little handmade something, and left it out there on the curb. For free, for the fun of it. Ephemeral ... Ok. Since I haven't been writing at all for almost six weeks now, I'm a little rusty. I'm also as timid as I've ever been, but if I keep waiting until the right time, I'm going to blow away without a trace. So, rust and all. I've managed to get a website up and running in the 50 days I've been away, and I've also managed to get the tell-all Survivor book typeset and off to the printer. I also voted in the election and I've had the TV on in the background as much as possible. In fact, our voting place used punch-cards and I poked it with a stylus, worrying the whole time that the thing wasn't properly lined up and what if I voted for -- you know -- the Wrong Guy? Actually, I do have quite a few things to talk about, come to think of it. The days have gotten shorter and I'm not as upset about it as I was last year. I've been much too busy to become the total complete huge white blob 'o flesh that I always fear I will become in November. Hasn't happened. Yet. I cut my hair the normal three-quarters of an inch this week. Extreme self-censorship is at work here. I'm shy and clumsy and out of practice. But, I'm back. Twinkly lights are in the sky and there's a small, gauzy foghorn in the distance. See you tomorrow! |
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