Halloween begins!

Happy Halloween everyone! Some of you already know, today is my day. My birthday is the only day I like better than Halloween. My day started with spiral glasses, bunny ears, dressing the puppies like a shark and piggles - and hitting the street. This all occurred prior to 8am... I've already arranged to leave my office early today. I don't think anywhere does Halloween quite like New York City. It's one of the most hopping nights of the year...

what you chase

Since cracking off this web-ville in 2009, I've seen (and written about) a lot going down. I've also had the privilege to watch a collection of my fellow wordsmiths get the bindings they've been chasing, with their name printed across, scattered around bookshelves all over the place. That, to me, is very special. Self-publishing gave me the same tingles as I observed strangers plucking up my pages to indulge in my poetry. It meant a lot to me,...

staying home. shutting down.

Trauma is a strange beast. No matter how much you pat her in your lap to keep her calm, you know sooner or later, with one quick neck whip - she bites you, again. Everyone on Earth experiences trauma to a certain degree. I feel like anyone who disagrees with that might be still in some type of denial period. Matters of the heart are among my top traumatizing periods. Like now, for example. Yesterday was a "no deal with world" day. One of my...

banter. boyfriends. blocking.

So, I started this webpage as a wife of nine years and have spun more boys through the past five than I can count. It's usually terribly boring, and, until recently - I didn't take any of it to heart, really. However, there have been one or two times when a man in my life finds out about FollowMeToNYC. This is fine and everything, but not after we stop talking. If I know someone personally, and we stop talking, and the person continues to come...

out snapping

I'm snapping out of it blog tribe. As a gypsy, minus my parents being 80 miles away - I don't really have chunks of family somewhere. If I didn't have a global cult of love-tribe who check in on me from time to time, it's possible I might be classified a recluse. Not that I'm misanthropic. Clearly not, or I wouldn't fall in love every day, and I certainly wouldn't live in midtown Manhattan. I love many humans, it's just that since my divorce -...

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