About me

I love to write. Words just find a way to pour out of me, even when I don't need to speak in volumes. My emails are hardly ever just notes. Typed conversations are always in full sentences and thoroughly descriptive. And it's not like I TRY to do it that way, it just happens. Hence, the epic blog. Hence, the novel-length emails. Hence, the scribblings found everywhere I go; my room, my desk, my car, my office, my office windows (boss isn't too thrilled about that one, but it's ME).

I love written conversations. If someone were to write back to me, I'd keep up an email thread for a very long time. Most, unfortunately, can't keep up. I tend to get carried away when the going's good, and drown my partner in words and stories and questions and answers until it becomes too much and too intimidating to attempt respond. That makes me sad. I'm in an odd and lonely league of my own. I have yet to decide how proud I am about that fact.
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I think I'm November. (???!!!) If you've ever seen Sweet November, I'm the chick. I'm the chick that takes a guy in, cares for him, fixes him, turns his life around, sets him back on his feet, and then sends him back to his own life. Surely my opinion, but I've only left guys for the better...broken, but better. And I don't leave until he's fixed. Does that mean I like a challenge? Maybe. This part's not quite a finished thought...just one of those meandering notions that continues to prove itself true...