Aaaaand, we're back.

You guys are so funny and awesome, the lot of you. I've received so many wonderful comments from my friends and fans about how much you miss my blogging (I know, I hardly believe it myself). Whether it's the snark, the laughs, or the ooey-gooey feeling you get from knowing that someone out there is more clueless than you, I appreciate knowing that you're reading.

So, enough of that crap.

I was going through my emails yesterday and near the end of my 608 messages(yes, I'm an inbox cleaner) (most of the time) found an email from the oft-cited best-friend-Brett (but not before revisiting the very last email I've saved from 2005 from old UCSD theatre colleague Ricardo entitled, "hey hottie!" wherein he invites me to join him for a latte) entitled "Two things that advanced my thinking." Enclosed was this article. And in that article is a picture that I won't repost here in the effort to keep this first entry back in the blogging world somewhat light. The picture, as you will see, is of a starving African child bent prostrate with a vulture seemingly waiting for the child's imminent death before it gets first pick at dinner with the caption "Get Over Yourself". Oh my gosh, I'm so not keeping this light.

My point is: sometimes I really beat myself up for stupid things. Like I don't give myself enough credit for the talent I have. I'm not grateful enough for the fact that I get on stage at least twice a month. At least. I have a roof above my head and food in my belly and fridge even if I currently only have about $15 to last me till next week's payday. I complain about not being able to enjoy my friends' company over martinis as much as I would like because I'm paying off debt. Etc, etc, etc. I need to fucking get over myself. Big time.

One of my goals as soon as I can do it is sponsor a woman in the Congo. It's only a $30 start-up fee and $27 a month. I have already begun drafting letters to my Congolese sister in my head, promising her that I will get on stage and write every chance I get and play my banjo every chance I get and love my friends and family and my freedom, because no matter how insidious the situation gets here in the States, I do not live in fear of the atrocities that Congolese women experience day-in and day-out. I hope to make it out to the Congo to spend time with these women before I'm 40. I would love to bring a Congolese woman back to spend a week, a month, a year, living it up American-girl style because everyone deserves the daily joy that we all take for granted.

I'm starting "Mermaid Twang" after killing "The Brash Lion Roars" because TBLR contained too many silly complaints for my own tolerance. And not to say that MT won't have its own complaints, but I would like to think I'm going to keep this blog on the less-confessional side (I'll save it for the Tori Amos tribute album) and more about performance, loving life, gratitude, and YES OF COURSE I will still totally make fun of stupid shit. I'm happier, not less funny, you turds.

Glad to be back in the blogosphere.