Alright, so I picked a really corny time to resurface—hearts and flowers day. It seemed apt, since this is supposed to be pretty much a day out of the ordinary, a day to make one’s presence felt. Kumbaya to the universe and all that.
As you can see, I’m being acerbic. The tint on my new pair of glasses is clearly not in the gentle shade of rose.
Well, the beegurl stings, that is one thing I can do.
But I am back. Getting my bearings and rising up from the bowels of online obscurity. See, I haven’t been entirely offline all this time, folks. I have followed blog favorites like a bloodhound, nose on the ground, sniffing out the fine details of other people’s lives. While my own was burgeoning beyond belief. Well, close to it.
Last time I posted that I was going to see autumn, at last. And I did. I saw New York and went to dreamed-of places there for the brief time that I was able. I took pictures, I took road trips, had strange journeys and even stranger homecomings.
I thought about what was before me, and I was beginning to see what could be ahead.
Then there was a generally low time for me during the holidays; tinsel seemed tarnished, sentiments were burdensome. Friends came and went. Talks were half-hearted, resolutions petered out. I felt the year ended flatly, I felt out of sorts.
And today, feeling like “I’m looking at the world from the bottom of a well,” today I blog. Comebacks are always fresh, in the first flush of re-emergence, there is promise in the new. Surely, that counts for something. That probably deserves roses, right?