research girl

I have some small butterflies in m’tummy. I feel like I did the first day of school after my long sabbatical. I’d been slacking so much I think I’d flunked three quarters of my classes, my roommate had bailed and I’d run home to mama, (and that’s a fucking heartbreaking phrase right there isn’t it?) and I had a crazy headspace from crushing on one of my professors obessively hard. Never pulled a Bobita *wink* but it was massive, this crush.

So when mom died and I had about enough money for a semester’s tuition and art supplies from her life insurance, I was able to decide impulsively (sans the mountains of FAFSA paperwork)that it was time to finish. Walking back in to a clausterphobically familiar arts building and taking my seat at the heavy wooden tables in the Ceramics studio was intimidating. The constant battle between devastating insecurity and grandiose excitement about my talent was dizzying.

In comparison, seeing an opportunity to write more seriously– with research and everything!- and signing on without any hesitation is not a huge deal. But it’s kind of a thing for me. I haven’t made any decisions about my growing desire to make some money from my affection for blogging, but it’s been on my mind constantly. There are parenting website plans slowly cooking that are too precious and young to share. Of course, there’s always the stagnating business we are coasting on which needs to be revamped so badly. And there’s the secretive new Roxy blog in the works, which might be crazy or might be really groovy. Wow…it just seems like actual progress to jump into a little project where I’m going to be doing a productive thing kind of publicly.

So when you see a post about copywriting tips, be very very impressed that I’m honing old skills and sharing the fruits of my learning. Be not afraid that I’ve abandoned waxing poetic about milky nipples, redneck husbands, and lesbian crushes,- it’s still me here.

To prove it, I leave you with trademark goofy Roxy Randomosity: You should all, if you have babies or toddlers, immediately renounce your religion in favor of paganism, because you can say this and then crack up at your own horrible rhyming bad joke: “Oh, baby…Do the toofs hurt? Are you a teethin’ heathen?”
And now I’m off to Do A Project. (Grinning about it, too.) “I’m research girl.” That would be a Willow quote. As a matter of fact, in the Daisy family, to willow is a verb meaning to research, preferably using technology but also in ancient occult texts, whilst being a cutey patootey geek chic Wiccan hottie.
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