The Entry For Stiffs With No Humor In Them: My self-summary? I was born a poor black girl in central Wonderland (which is somewhat akin to trying to find the center of a puddle of water that keeps sloshing back and forth, but I digress) until my -15th unbirthday, in which I woke up in Wellington State (located in Wellington State, which is sort of to the east of the pud--damnit! Stop sloshing!) Mental hospital a 15 year old white boy. I wasn't as confused as I should have been. After all that mushroom induced growing and shrinking I kind of expected something like this to happen.
After my release (escape) I lived in the woods and was raised by bears. Horribly. Eventually a handful of hunters found me, killed my bearents, and forced me to rejoin mainstream society as part of a traveling circus. Those were the happiest days of my life. Especially the violent beatings, and eating seals.
Once my circus career was over I decided to try my hand at coercive midnautical trading. I was never caught, the legend of Stinkbeard still lives on, and my treasure is hidden away on the ever mysterious Shinbone Island to this very day.
The Entry For Everyone Still Reading: I am a little bit of an anachronism, and that statement doesn't just sprout from my always having wanted to use that word in an actual sentence (a little bit, though). In this modern world I can find my way around the kitchen, but I don't belong behind a stove. I don't long for a past I can no longer experience (though sometimes I become nostalgic and have a hard time letting go of certain moments) or a vague Bright Future where Everything Is All Right (TM). I long for a channel that runs much deeper. "Freedom," might be an okay word for it, though nobody understands it anymore. I include myself whenever I use the words "nobody," or "no one," and so on, because I'm no exception either.
I write, and paint, and keep marginally sane through surreal humor. Whether serious or humorous, I speak and write in a manner that scares the hell out of most people for reasons I'll never, ever, not in my life, comprehend.
I was born in the middle of a blizzard, a day late, and it's only a little of an overstatement to say that I nearly died every Tuesday until I was 18.
I've lived all over North America, but have never had a true home (though a couple of places felt close). I prefer having only a small group of close friends to having dozens of acquaintances and have, so far, had some pretty mixed luck in that respect.
I have no musical talent whatsoever, but my dream is still to be a rambling folk singer. I've totally got the too-much-whiskey voice and melancholy-knowledge songwriting down. Now for the musical aptitude.
The happiest time of my life was when I was living in a ghetto in one of the most crime-ridden cities in America.
I am aberrant, romanesque, and perhaps, chivalrous