It's been a long and decidedly shitty Monday, so I'm ready for the numbing comfort of my couch and some substance-free TV, but I hope to be here again soon and often, revealing perhaps inappropriately intimate details to nameless, faceless strangers. Nameless, faceless strangers intrigue me. There, you know something about me already.
I'm a 44-year old happily married woman and self-described urban hippy. I love wine, spicy food, music, travel and warped comedy. I live for summer. I've been struggling for years to *get my voice on*. Prone to bouts of depression and flights of fancy, I also have a tendency to develop, every few years or so, bothersome infatuations. These are totally harmless, though – I absolutely DO NOT fuck around on my husband, so get that thought out of your head, you dirty little monkey. ;-)
Currently I've got this *thing* for a Franco-Spanish worldbeat/reggae/ska/punk (pretty much genre-defying) musician. Okay, okay – it's Manu Chao, if you must know. Nosey! Anyway, it's not really that I'm infatuated with Manu; it's that the man is my muse. (More on that later.) I give him credit for the fact that I'm sitting here writing now. See, like my father, I'm a very passionate individual (and a big flirt), but I sometimes find it difficult to recognize my own feelings for what they're really all about. I figure it out though, occasionally with the help of my amazing therapist, who I love for treating me like a person and not a disorder.
Here's my little dog, Stella, exuding bliss. It's what she does. Stella (named after the beer, not the Streetcar Named Desire character) is half Papillon, and her capacity for making people happy inspired, at least in part, my use of Papillon as a blog handle.
