My Mutant Deer

My Mutant Deer

Deerinheadlights1

Holy shit you guys! Seriously! Was that a motherfucker of a YEAR or what??

So, how are you? I’ve really missed you! You look fantastic. Is that a new haircut? Did you lose weight? Those jeans make your ass look FIERCE! Seriously!

Me? Well, that’s a story best told over a bottle of bourbon. Suffice it to say though, that despite what you may have read in the headlines, I am somewhat alive and did not die in a fiery crash whilst dodging pesky paparazzi. So, rest easy, dear reader, when I last held a mirror under my nose it fogged up.

Figured it was high time I started this party back up after over a year of extreme life changes. Not Caitlyn Jenner kind of change (now SHE had a year!) but probably just as hormonal.

One of the many annoyances of being a writer (and the list is fucking extensive, by the way) is that we often want to write about what we are actually experiencing and living and seeing and thinking. When those experiences are exceptional in nature – they are too personal or painful – we can become a deer frozen in the glare of headlights, afraid to type a word that would be the wrong one and further hurt yourself or others.

As an aside, I am the deer in this scenario, if said deer were, let’s say part of a horrible Dr. Moreau sort of mutation experiment who now had fingers and thumbs and the ability to type.

And think.

And speak passable English.

Actually, all that would be super cool. I’d totally want that deer as a pet, right?

Anyway, I am sort of doing the mutant deer thing right now.

Most of what has been on my mind of late has to do with the idea of starting over. In particular starting over at a bit of an “advanced” age. I think making sweeping life changes have different challenges based on your stage in life but I also think a vast majority of the experience is pretty universal regardless of age.

It’s exhilarating and it’s debilitating.

It’s uncomfortable and it’s authentic.

It’s confusing and it’s all crystal clear.

It’s the best of times and it’s the worst of times.

I think you get the idea….I ain’t no Dickens, people!

But, sometimes you get to the point where the unknown is better than the known and you have to just go with it.

The easiest logistical path can be the hardest emotional one.

So, there it is. My vague and mysterious explanation for my absence. I will try hard to get some more stuff up here and make it at least mildly entertaining and worth your time. At the very least it will be something to do while you are sitting on the crapper.

And I will befriend my mutant deer. And maybe even knit the poor animal a sweater and take it out for a walk now and then in the light of day.

Rock on, 2016!

5 Responses »

  1. Man, so many good people have come back with blog posts in the past few weeks and it’s been awesome. I sat out in my car earlier on break and read this, and I genuinely laughed out loud more than once. It’s great to hear from you, I enjoyed reading this so much.

  2. Ah ha!! So happy! I was thinking of making a list of things I’ve learned, most recently that my fingertip will fit between the panels of the garage door and it will close completely. Yes, it hurts a good deal and I wouldn’t suggest trying it yourself, just take my word for it!

    Glad to see you! 🙂

Leave a Reply