where did she go?

or is she here right now?

I've been cleaning out the study/guest room/library/craft area/etc. tonight. Well, by tonight, I mean for the last hour, and then earlier this week, and blah blah blah. But I came across something my mother had made me--a kind of collage of pictures from my life thus far (well, up to 22.5ish, anyway). It had pictures from sports and birthday parties (which some of you attended--ah, the no right on red sign and eddie's mug) and scouting and everything. Even me doing Baba Yaga's Geese all dressed up like a crazy gypsy. You Eliot-ers do remember the Storytelling Festival, right? But I digress.

In those pictures I see a version of me that was fearless and determined and motivated. She cared what people thought, because it hurt her when they were so mean, but at the same time she knew she'd make it through. And she has. And she's grown up into me. And I think maybe I'm growing back into her. Not a child, of course, but I've noticed recently that I'm markedly less afraid than I used to be. It's an odd sensation to have a rush of memories come flooding back, and to realize that rightthisminute is where all your hard work got you. Eerie even.

I'm glad she came back.
and thanks again, Renee, for telling me that she had.

Alright, enough about me. Well, not really, since this is my blog. But yeah.

Everyone give Sterling a hug. Or a pat on the back. Or a high-five or tell him a good joke or something. He's earned it.