I've moved again... what... you expected something else from me?

Lest ugly rumors fester into fact:

I'm still in Manhattan. Still in Hell's Kitchen, actually. It's just the blog that's moved... again.

After several months of being locked out of my own blog account (RIP City-Kitty), I finally decided to throw in the towel and start all over again in the Blogosphere (or is this Blogoverse?). Mostly, my return to blogging is designed to amuse a few of you who have wondered what I've been up to since I moved to the City and for whom repeating the same story over and over again when I see you on those rare occasions (or passing it along to my sister to pass along to you over more regular margarita nights at Holy Frijoles) doesn't seem to work. Aren't you lucky that I love you all just that much? :)

For those of you who may have stumbled upon me in more recent months, the super-short Reader's Digest version of the last 9 months or so goes like this: Moved, un-Mentionable occurrence (starts with m, ends with ugging), Mexico, Margaritas, Marketing Prowess, Men, More Men, Minor Mayhem, More Margaritas, Major Mayhem, Making my way in this city... Moving the blog here.

I'm looking forward.

In the interest of this new plan to actually use the webspace I've been allotted by Blogger (until they evict me again, whenever that may be), I'm determined to share stories and observations when I have them, rather than thinking "oh, I should really blog about that," and finally months and months later after all relevance has passed, finally getting around to it. Sadly, the first "I should really blog about that" that has to go is my 10 Year High School Reunion, held in September, in Virginia Beach.

Oh, wait, you know what. No. Not completely. While I won't dish about what everyone was wearing and who got hot over the last decade (and a little over who seemed to have left their hair somewhere back in the last milennium), I will say this:

Standing in that room last September, with many people I haven't seen since we were 17 and 18, I can truly appreciate life's little intricacies. We've all grown up in the last 10 years, and more than a few have turned into Grown Ups (you know, with kids and husbands and wives and mortgages...). I will definitely admit to the former; the latter-- eh, not so much. Not yet, anyway. I could have, perhaps, if I'd taken another path. If I'd stayed here and not moved there. If I hadn't picked those flights. Or chosen that weekend to visit. If I'd said yes. If I'd said no...

A fleeting moment; a split-second decision... how, then, would I have introduced myself to the people who knew me a decade ago?

Was there a moment or two, in that room, when I looked around at the diamonds and bands on the hands, the pregnant bellies, and the pictures of children, that I stopped and thought to myself what if...? Sure; and probably longer than a moment or two. Hell, just posting this tonight has made me stop and think again. But I'm happy. I'm happy in the "now" and that was a long time coming. I'd like to relish in the contented little space I've found for myself for just a little while longer. Let a few more forge ahead along the Grown Up trail before me. I'll get there one of these days.

Like I said, for now, I'm enjoying where I am, and working on fulfilling a few other accomplishments. You'll notice, at the end of every blog, that I will include a word count. No, this is not the word count for the actual, preceding post. I'm finally doing it. I'm finally writing that book I've been talking about for years (the one I said I hoped to have out by 2008 on my MYSPACE profile). And hence, the name of the blog Tiny Inkspots, which formulate themselves into words and become the book.

The count may go up or down, depending on how much editing I've done or how much I hate my current theme and plot (and no, I'm not giving hints just yet... stay with me though, you might be rewarded). The point is, this will be finished. It may not be The Inferno or, hopefully, not As I Lay Dying, but by Christmas 2008, this mother will be published (I never said I wouldn't self-publish) and at least one of you will have it under your tree as a gift from me. You've been warned, though I'd appreciate it if you'd act surprised when you receive it. :)

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