Spring is the time of rebirth and renewel and fucking, and lots of late nights and warm sweaters, and not to mention a blanket, stars, a new pair of sandals, and a pretty sundress.
So far my spring has been anything but.
Oh dear, where to begin.
First I've been doing more reading than writing lately, and nothing supple on the T-fiction count, at least this month.
Maritally my T-ness has become quite the distraction. Sometimes I think I misjudged how she'd react when I came out. Part of me was like ..."well, duh." Of course she'd be freaked.
And the other part of me, the wistful romantic, really hoped her firery, artistic spirit would accept me. She hung out with people like me (read: gender variant, or open to gender variancy) all through college and grad- school. We hung out with people like me when we first dated Turned out she's become much more conservative.
Shit, not that I blame her.
(pause to sip my very cold, very white wine)
She has every right to be, but boy was I too optimistic.
Anyhoo, enough of me...I'm bored, you must be.
Anybody hitting the spring yard sales. Picked up a cute, light (read: super cool for hot summer porch nights) brown and gold spag-strap dress, similar style to one pictured here.
