This blog thing is brand new, so I feel the need to introduce myself. I’m a writer, reader, runner, activist, and functional introvert. I’m an Air Force brat afflicted with terminal wanderlust. I’m a divorced mother of one who loves dogs, food, and smashing the patriarchy. I’m a black woman adopted by white parents who raised a brown daughter. I’ve fallen in love in Italy, lived in Germany and Japan, learned to dive in Guam, and gone wreck diving off the coast of Hawaii. I’ve been so low I wondered if I’d ever see the sun again. I went to a hippie college on the west coast of Florida for undergrad and then started and stopped grad school in New York City. I’m a freelancer earning a living by the power of my imagination alone. I’m a community organizer fighting for racial justice and reproductive rights. I’m a feminist, rabble rouser, and proud member of the resistance. I have a degree in philosophy—get ready for the occasional cogito ergo sum—and a paralegal certificate. I’ve pressed restart on my life a few times since becoming an adult, most recently after the 2016 election cycle. Instead of curling up in the fetal position and lying still over the next 4 years, I decided to get active. That’s despite the social anxiety. If I can do it, anyone can and should.
That’s one hell of an information dump and it doesn’t even begin to cover what goes on in my head or where I’ve been in the last 37 years. I imagine that will come with time and effort. I have so much to say, and expressing myself in words has always come as easily as breathing. It’s actually my preferred method of communication. In other words, prepare for verbosity on an epic scale. Words are my jam and writing has been much more than a hobby since middle school. The world’s been on fire for a while now but, somehow, most of us are just noticing for the first time. It won’t all be doom and gloom, though. There’s hope too, and humor. What would life be without laughing, screaming, writing, worrying, and dreaming?