I know I have to write.  I know I need to write.  I just need to make an attempt.  A lot has changed.  But, nothing has changed.  I just need to write.  I just have to write.  I have to write.


This place was once my sanctuary.  I still see remnants of myself here when I visit and get nostalgic.
Still chugging along...so busy with work, school, kid, life that I can't hear my inner voice.  Will check back in once I do!


I am devoured by motherhood. I didn't lose myself in marriage. Motherhood?  A totally different story. I need some saving right about now and the only person who can help me is my almost 4 year old. A break kid?


When I look at my artwork, my writings, my journals from the past, I don't recognize myself. Who was I??!


All my life, I've been looking for soemthing I can't live without.  Now, I have my son.  My son has his garbage trucks.  I wish I had a garbage truck habit.


Hello old blog...long time no talk...how are you doing today?


Hello hello hello is there anybody out there?

Just checking...


there are so many good things i can't write about because i'm afraid that the people who are not supposed to read them will read them and then i have to look them in the eye and explain... does it work if i say it's fictional or names have been changed? really? does that ever work for anyone?!


what if i just started writing even if it wasn't smart or funny or meaningful or anything? what if?


so that's the difference between real writers and fake ones... real ones keep writing...
when i read all those old posts of mine... i wonder... where did i get all those words? and why is my head so empty now?


at the end of the work day, i look very forward to driving home to my husband and cozying up on the couch, watching tv, having dinner, telling a couple of jokes or get mad at little things for no reason

there's an incredible amount of comfort in this almost daily routine which words cannot describe (unless u're a very good poet or something)
saw "fast food nation"

at the moment i'm disturbed enough to set aside meat

however once the images of "kidney pulling," stunners, massive amounts of blood, and struggling cows subside in my head, i may be tempted to bite into a juicy hamburger or steak again

i hope not


i have maintained my sense of individuality after marriage

it's still a challenge to remember to sign greeting cards and mass emails from "us" rather than from "i"

this is working

i like that
i guess i can say that my creativity began with "pretty hate machine" and ended with "year zero"

i guess that would be appropriate

i guess i can accept that


recently i've found that i'm not much of a rock star

i have to find another excuse to act like one
my husband and i live in different worlds

occasionally our worlds overlap

i like that


six months of uninspiration

hope that's a good sign.


for all in search of webgard