So just what does a 48-year-old law-librarying, mother-of-one who's an out-and-proud, homeless lesbian farmer writer-wannabe write about, anyway? Our six horses, four dogs, and too-many cats? My many Moonlighting Adventures? My delicate and blessed sobriety? My great kid?
Or perhaps my nervous breakdown (pick one), or the time I contemplated jumping out of my lawyer-type office? Or gossip about my ex-husband. Or the President.
Ah, well, perhaps my energy is better spent trying to make sense of that hideous first sentence. Naw; let the reader make of it -- and me -- what she will.
