Today is my half-birthday. In six months, I will be 50 years old. I have in my head, an image of me dragging my camera and curling iron up the side of a mountain. As I have reached the top, everyone I love is behind me. I look haggard, tired, pissy. My hair is Cruella-like and I have on only black. I’m looking behind myself apprehensively, as if to ask every one if they were there to usher me into my new century with love and kindness or if they were just going to simply push me over the  edge.

I have a lot to say about things, which is why I started this blog to begin with. I have talked and talked for years, most of the time, no one is paying enough attention to what I am saying for my satisfaction. The answer? I can write. No one to interrupt or argue. I don’t have to remind anyone that they are supposed to be listening to me with more urgency. I just write and then I picture everyone I have ever come into contact with, standing at the ready, reading the deep thoughts with all the ferocity of a middle-aged divorcee reading a Harlequin romance novel. I mean it! You all look so beautiful! There is an ethereal glow of anticipation, and then, of course, the applause….(insert Homecoming Queen wave here}

In the next 6 months, I am going to do a series of blog posts about things I need to purge. It will be ugly, it might be funny. It is sure to offend someone.  I almost always do. I hope you take this little trip with me. I feel like this is a necessity in the continuation of the next part of my life. I want to enter into my new half of life full of light and love and tantalizing expectations. I need to shed my old skin. So come on, you can help me mix the drinks.