Act 2, Scene 1

It is interesting to be back in the vicinity of many people who happen to read this blog. As I am visiting with friends they mention things they have read and request the follow-up story, or the behind the scenes details on the little nuggets I provide in type-form here. I hadn't realized how oblivious I am to my readership. I just write like I always have, in a rambling dialogue to myself. Credit should go to Laurie Oliver who introduced me to the concept of journal writing when I was in sixth grade. She had a marble composition book, I think... if I remember correctly, and simply opened my eyes to the fact that I could write my thoughts down on paper. Just like that. We were sitting on the hillside by the dam at Aldeen park in the sunshine, a few of us lounging about probably skipping school, and the discussion about journals came up. I recall asking some incredulous questions such as "really? you just write down whatever you are thinking? you don't need a subject?" I must have been overly influenced by my smarty pants creative english classes or somehow hemmed in by the preconcieved notion that keeping a diary was supposed to be the dutiful logging of daily events (which is why it is called a diary). How binding. Laurie unlocked the door on that one and freed me to just ramble and ramble in spectacular ink on pretty bound pages of boring office supplies. Oh gleeful JOY!

The real point here is that I found out that my mom is reading it. Hadn't thought about that, but honestly now that I know, I am surprisingly very happy about it. I mean, she sleuthed the song lyrics in a previous post and is now familiar with the political rants of Public Image Limited. Dontcha. My aunt is also reading and sends occaisional breif words of support and wisdom when it seems to her like I am struggling. And yes I did go see mom last weekend. Two of my dearest Milwaukee friends found time to read this blog together while out one evening. I love that and I am jealous of their iPhones. Another anonymous reader told Santa Claus about the fountain pen I was pining after... There are other stories of encounters like this that make me smile and think. Thank you all for checking in.

Ok, what I really wanted to talk about here is the fact that it finally feels like chapter one of this adventure is wrapped up. Perhaps the first act of my entire life has just come to a close with a beautiful scene revolving around a dinner with my mom and one of her closest friends. I imagine the thick velvety curtian closing and blowing the snow around in little swirls, leaving a silence and a cosy backstage for me to snuggle up into and change out the scenery. These days behind the curtain have been filled with the sweet luxuries of the most divine royal existence you can imagine. Delicious feasts, showerings of gifts, downy cushions, plush velvets, magical and exotic entertainment, rejuvinating baths set to dreamy music, swedish massages, luxurious pet panthers and the unshakable feeling that I may in fact be a princess. In truth I am a girlscout and am itching to get my hands dirty. Today seems like the day that the curtain rises on Act 2. Time to get a move on the first adventures in making things and going places. Hot cha.