Judging from the date of my last post, I have been sorely disregarding this blogsite. It isn’t as though I don’t have anything to write about, I just haven’t found the time to do it here. Life seems to have overtaken me lately—it’s all about cub scouts and basketball, choir practice and spaghetti dinners at church, volunteering at my son’s school, and (oh!) a little thing I like to call My New Relationship.
What’s that? Yes, you heard me, my relationship status has changed since I last wrote. It actually was in its infancy shortly after my dreaded birthday but has turned into a full-on, love-fest that seems to make everyone else but us, quite ill. We are goofy, googly-eyed, lovestruck middle-aged women in the midst of this BIG LOVE that has no drama (okay, give or take a crazy ex or two, but they give us wide berth), is mature and passionate and intellectual and supportive and long distance. Yep. Nine hundred miles separate the two of us but somehow, both broke and struggling, we’ve managed to see each other for at least 8 days out of each of the past 4 months.
I will be writing about how we met, 26 years ago, because it’s quite a story. However, I’m going to save it for something special. That something special is the reason I am procrastinating about vacuuming in preparation for Li’s arrival tomorrow and tooting my own horn instead. I had this amazing (read ah-may-zing!) thing happen to me today. In an effort to truly hone some of my writing skills and gain more visibility, I submitted a small piece I wrote here last summer to the online queer community magazine, ourbiggayborhood.com. It was a whim. A lark, if you will. I was editing a rather dull section of tables in an asthma book and decided to check into the submission section for guest writers. I followed the instructions, chose a piece that I liked, tweaked it just a bit, and emailed it off. I then left to pick my son up at school, thinking it would be cool if they liked it and I would get a little boost from having one of my pieces run where more folks would read it. Imagine my shock and awe (what a great campaign that was, eh?) when I got a phone call, not an hour later, from the co-editor, Lori Hahn, asking me to join their highly-esteemed team of regular contributing writers.
To say I was bowled over is a total understatement. I am positive I sounded like an utter buffoon as I spit and sputtered my way through profuse thanks and “golly-gee’s” and “holy cows!” I am, and this is putting it quite mildly, beyond flattered. Here, finally, was the validation that this thing that I do purely because I love to put words to paper (or, well, throw them out into the digital ether) is actually good! To have someone in the field recognize this passion, pure driven passion, as something good enough to put out there, publicly, every month is…well, I’m fairly dumbfounded.
To quote my darling Li, THIS is what I have to say about THAT: thank you. Thank you to my friends who support me in my endeavors. Thank you to my son who puts up with my overlong hours at the computer. Thank you to Li, who is an immeasurable talent in her own right, for continuing to push me beyond that which I think I am capable of. And thank you to my mom for giving me this gift. She is one of the best writers I know and if it weren’t for her love of the quill, I don’t know that I would ever have developed rather a knack for this thing called writing. Well, it seems they are cueing the music and going to commercial now, so I’m grabbing my…uh, right…I didn’t actually win anything. I just feel like I did. Now, I suppose I’d better start backing up my work and learning how to write in Word instead of directly into the blogosphere. Someday I might actually want to remember all that I have put down in words.