"I am at a loss to conceive how a man should permit himself to write anything that would be truly disgraceful to a woman, or why a woman should be censured for writing anything that would be proper and becoming for a man."

08 February 2012

What is this place?

How did I get back here?

Well, I'm glad you (the interwebs) asked. Though the more appropriate query might be: why did I leave?
It's not you, it's me. There. I clichéd.
However, that is pretty much the reality. Just like I'm one of those folks with a tendency to not respond to someone about anything and then the guilt complex enters in for not responding, and then I just get so guilt ridden and ashamed I ignore the issue entirely unless it comes back to bite me in the ass... well, yeah, that's basically it.

Then, eventually, you have to pry yourself away from the Self-hate Spiral of Suck and start functioning again.
This lovely blog post was an enormous help in getting me back to the blogsphere. I am this person. Number fifteen, about the books... it's like the guy has lived with me my entire life.

So yeah, I'm a crazy writer. Nutters. Off my rocker. Gone 'round the bend. Koo-Koo for Cocoa Puffs. I'm not alone, though -- much as the isolating voices in my head and natural introverted personality try to convince me otherwise.
I can't blog the crazy away, but I can invite others to jump in the crazy pool and drown with me.*

*I can't swim. So by my logic, we're all drowning.
See. Crazy.

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