Writer, reviewer, researcher, curator, archivist. Semi-professional amateur. Chief cook and bottle washer at 2nd Sight Magazine since 1999. Ultracrepidarian and Onageristic Estimator.
I used to be a social butterfly, special event organizer, and all-around rabble-rouser. Now, I’ve had enough accidents, conflicts, and grief to give me PTSD. As a former adrenaline junkie, I was always ready to go out dancing, trail camping, and bike riding. Now, I’ll be content to watch grass grow from our porch for the rest of my life, reading disaster porn and horror fiction.
As a writer, I’ve stored up enough misdeeds, misadventures, and mishaps to feed my creative beast for a long time. I once replied, when asked my strong points at a job interview, that I could handle one robbery — but probably not one every week. I hate violence, but relish the antics of the rest of my species, whether I’m laughing or crying about them.
We moved to ATX from upstate NY in ’97. The happy, friendly, creative, and vividly weird culture here made it the best place on Earth. Twenty-five years later, we’ve fled to Nameless as Austin has become crowded, gentrified, and turned into a different town. The Liberty Lunch disappeared long ago, Antone’s is gone. Even Threadgill’s has closed its central location because it’s too dang expensive to operate downtown.
I went to Hippie Hollow. Once. Aging makes skinny dipping less thrilling, though I’ll never forget my friendly conversation with a fully-clothed park ranger who never once looked anywhere but my face.
The kids are all grown now. My husband and I are rediscovering the joy of being able to walk nekkid around the house. Visitors: call in advance.
I’ve got a very dark, twisted, smartass streak that sometimes can’t be contained. I also have no filter. When I die, instead of RIP, my tombstone will read TMI. I’m never bored and rarely lonely. But the world is so entertaining, sometimes I just have to get out and about in it.
So I read. A lot.
My spirit animal is the Cheshire Cat. While observing those who pass my way, particularly when they’re from somewhere else, I’m happily invisible until I choose to be seen. I may be a curious character, but I’m curiouser about you.
Like Alice’s disappearing/reappearing friend, if you ask me a question, my answer may perplex you. Don’t worry, after contemplation, all will become clear. Remember, wherever you go, there you are.
I’ll see you around, out there in Wonderland.
Cat's Game 