Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.



Mundanity sometimes makes me want to toss a few books and some clothes into a bag, pick up my guitar, and just get the hell out.

I was going to write about my evening and my day, but I was suddenly struck by the blah-ness of it. I'm busier than the proverbial one-legged man, I've got fifty zillion things going on, all of which (okay, most of which) I'm passionately involved in...yet, I feel like it's pointless. Like it doesn't matter.

Man, just when I thought I had this restlessness thing handled. Maybe I'm not as ready for a middle as I thought.

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