messy messy me.

i've been horribly remiss (is that the right word? oh gads, who cares.) in posting lately. why?

well, everything isn't perfect, i don't have all my ducks in a row, the stars haven't aligned, my I's aren't dotted and my T's aren't crossed, my apartment's still a mess, i still haven't resolved all of my father-daughter issues, i haven't fallen madly in love and proven all the naysayers wrong, and i still haven't saved the world. sheesh.

so really. how could a girl like me have anything to say?

well, duh. isn't that the point of this blog?

why yes. that is the point of this blog. to track and record this messy little journey. particularly the journey of one lovely imperfect woman who's not quite sure how or why or what the fuck, but is putting one foot in front of the other anyway. a lovely imperfect woman who still struggles with a body image that resembles Jabba the Hut. a lovely imperfect woman who desperately wants to be free from the prison that is dieting, but is still not quite sure how to live without that structure, without the sense that life is just one big series of constant attempts to better oneself. (damn those Transcentalists!)

god forbid this lovely woman should just be.

historically, i am a better do-er than be-er, but that's only b/c i haven't been practicing much lately. i've been wrapping myself up in to-do lists , topping myself with big shiny bows, and hoping that this would somehow make me appear more valuable...therefore through some sort of alchemy...i actually would be.

posh.

anyway...this is my long way of saying. i'm back. i'm back to writing more messily. living more messily. i always did much better with finger paints than crayons. i don't mind the paint beneath the nails. evidence, that somewhere, someday, i dug in...and swirled.