Like a dog off a leash

You know.  Coop a dog up all day. Take it for a walk, make it sit, stay. Then slip the leash over its head and BAM! Dog is gone. Out of there, tongue flailing, stupid grin on its face.

I am totally that dog.

Since July I’ve been dealing with my mess of a heart (literally, not figuratively), and yesterday I got the green light to start living again. Or at least to move; I actually feel like I’ve been living a lot more than normal. It’s amazing what a person can do when they’re not devoting a few hours a day to training. Mostly I’ve been working on my “grandma skills.”*

Among my current projects is mixing pink lamé (lamè?) and electronic music lyrics from the last decade. I also made myself a pair of wingtips. And a blanket. And a sweater that’s a little bit too old-lady-chic even for me. This blog is about to get a lot more colorful.

* This is particularly amusing when you remember that I don’t want to be a grandma. Ever.

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