I disappeared for a few months as blogging was beginning to feel a bit of an obligatory chore, so I promptly stopped. And went out and did some stuff, learned some stuff about myself and have grown a lot in the process of taking a break not only from blogging, but from my writing practice in general.

And I’ve had a BLAST! And I believe, have come back stronger than ever!

Matt and I took a near month long trip up the west coast over the summer, befriended our very own Aussie ‘mascot’ and persuaded him to come along. Our trio drove from LA to Canada and back, broke and scared, meeting the coolest, strangest characters.  And smiling, scrimping, saving, pic-nicing and couchsurfing the whole time, having one of the best roadtrips ever. And praying every second that the car would make it.

It did. Approximately one month later, it died. Forever and ever. I liked being without a car in Los Angeles. Truly, I did. I’d been on the go so fast for so long that it was a relief to have an excuse to stay in one spot. Now being car-less in a city built on sprawl is finally becoming a drag. I’ve taken a liking to LAPD police car auctions. There’s no way in hell I’m paying big money for a car.

It took a full month after getting back in the bungalow to get the place back to its former glory. Anytime I leave for an extended period of time, there’s always broken furniture and drippy faucets to contend with upon arrival. I mean, I expect that. But we had to get a new bathroom floor, had kitchen plumbing nitemares and went through two different handymen before the jobs were done correctly. The house-sitters are great folks and did nothing wrong and everything right, by the way, it’s just that this place is 100 years old. (Legend has it that this bungalow was one of Abbot Kinney’s guest houses.) Stuff rots and breaks.

Oh yeah, and then there was lots of work. Gosh, was I thankful for the work! I got to juggle three shows, which was fun for me. I got to ride my bike to work everyday. The hours were sane and I shared an office with really nice people. Thank you to those folks at GK Films. Wonderful, the lot of them.

And interspersed with the home front, job front and life front, the creative front has finally begun to push forward in a really big way – I’ve performed six or seven times, gotten published in print in Artisphere Magazine, drawn frescoes on the LA section of the Berlin Wall for it’s 20th Anniversary celebration and have made a glorious mess of my studio. Paper and photos and lists and random stuff thrown everywhere. Good creative soup.

I’ve been able to have an inner re-evaluation of life and writing and being. And have gotten to really delve deeply and mull over all the seeds that I planted within while in Peru. Its been a great ride. I’ve reconnected to literally hundreds of old friends and acquaintances. And have made an effort to further strengthen the close friendships I’ve already got.

Now what?

I’m writing a novel this winter. Everyone asks what the novel is going to be about. I don’t know yet and am not in a hurry to figure it out just now. But all the moments are being saved in a piggy bank of sorts for later.

So welcome back to my site. And thank you for reading. I really do appreciate it.

Are you all as nervous as I am?

I remember how it felt four years ago when Bush got re-elected. My boyfriend and I buried ourselves underneath the bed covers and cried. Like so many others we knew, we swore (but kinda didn’t really mean it) that we were moving to Canada. Then we actually called Canada. We got a recorded message from the government of Canada explaining that they were too swamped with requests. Then I remember just being thoroughly depressed and uncomfortable and angry.

I remember eight years ago when Bush first got elected. I volunteered helping to set up all the event barricades in Nashville for what we all just knew was going to be Al Gore’s victory party. I just remember how dejected and defeated we all felt as the horror unfolded – like a balloon that has a slow leak. The UN-reality of the situation hit so hard that everyone was stone silent. I remember one of my friends crying and wringing her hands and saying, “This is soooo bad. Do you all know how bad this is? We’re fucked! We’re really, really fucked.”

And at the time, I really had no idea what she was talking about. But, as I came to realize, she was oh so right.

So, now, I’m nervous. I usually volunteer to work at my local polling place on election day, but I just couldn’t bring myself to sign up this time. I’d rather be out and about in the public arena when I wake up in the morning, watching the media outlets tell the sensational tale in their biased manner. I want to be ready for anything instead of feeling like I just got sucker-punched. Again. This time I at least want to be able to brace myself.

Honestly, like many of you, I’m sitting here thinking, “Will Virginia be the new Ohio or Florida?” I hope not. I fear the ground work for that kind of debacle has already been laid.

Most of all, just get out there and vote. Please. I really do care who you vote for in the end, but I’m not going to get preachy about it. Just vote. Please. I also encourage you to ask to see the roster at your polling place late in the afternoon or early evening. This way, you can see who has not come out to vote yet and you can go knock on the doors of your neighbors who haven’t voted yet, and urge them to do so or help them if they need a ride or other assistance.

And for goodness sake, please be nice to those poll workers. They essentially are volunteers who work a 14-hour day and might get some coffee and donuts for their trouble, but they are too busy to eat anyway. Be compassionate, please.