Chapter Two

I'm known for starting over and moving on. My resume reads like a novella and it's more than a little embarrassing to be a double divorcee. Theatre's always been the perfect career for someone like me with a short attention span -- as soon as it starts to get the least bit boring the curtain comes down and it's time to start working on the next show. A friend recently said to me you've lived like four lives. And I guess I have but I'm hoping the fifth will stick.

After barely subsisting this past year and knowing that it was time to make the last big change, I got a job that takes me to Newport, RI. My Ex#2 used to argue with me that I had to decide: did I want to concentrate on being a college professor or a theatre producer because I couldn't expend my energy doing both. So this is me sticking my tongue out and wagging my fingers at him -- Nah! Nah! Nah! Nah! Nah! In my new job I get to do both. Ha! (I try not to be petty but sometimes it just feels good)

So, on January 2nd I paid the guy I've been dating (more about that situation later, I'm sure) to move me, my two cats and the few belongings I've accumulated down to Newport from my temporary/permanent home base in Nashua, NH. We're here now -- mostly unpacked (damn those last four boxes) and settling in. But that doesn't mean that I'm ready to settle.

I've decided to start this blog to explore this 2nd or 22nd chapter in my life. In September I turned 40 and since not much else was going right in my life except my great sustaining friendships I wanted a huge party to celebrate. Of course it was one of those freezing cold rainy days you sometimes get during the summer when you have to dig out your winter clothes and curse Mother Nature. Since I knew it was my 'surprise' party, I refused to do that and wore my cute, silk, flouncy skirt and froze my ass off at my outdoor minor league baseball themed party. My friend, Little Mommy, and I have this superstition about my birthday -- a candle must be blown out or fire will follow me all year -- this stems from 1999 when there was no party in '98 so both my hair and house caught fire and my nickname for awhile was Torch (yet another story for another time). So, when the cupcakes decorated like baseballs came out, I dutifully closed my eyes and wished.

I just opened my eyes and found myself here.