Apparently, that murky, fallow period I was bemoaning only weeks ago has passed, because I'm now neck-deep in corn, rushing madly about the fields trying to harvest the fucking stuff.

Part of it is my own doing. I put it out there*, this desire to work towards something new, and the willingness to let go of whatever was no longer serving. So what happened?

That show I was collaborating on that I never could quite get it up for? Turns out my writing partner felt the same way. Buh-bye, #1 & #2; hello, six-month coaching project (which the tax return is financing) designed to get my money-making business(es) off the ground.

I wanted to act again...sort of...I thought...maybe. On cue, THE STRIP rose from the ashes...and crashed to the earth in a fiery wreck four weeks later, just as it dawned on me that maybe it wasn't the acting that was attracting me to acting anymore. Lo and behold, not one but two performance opportunities popped up in the rubble. Ahhh, performance, not acting. Me being me, telling my story, instead of me being (character name here), telling someone else's. So that was what all that climbing up on stage was really about...

I also started putting it out there, literally. For someone who spent the last six years avoiding contact, turning phone calls around via email, holing myself up in my hut for weeks on end, I have been a veritable social butterfly: Parties. Events. Classes. Seminars. SXSW. Last week, I stood up at a college alumni networking event and boldly proclaimed my reason for being there: to help cure me of my introversion. This I did in a hip-length, kelly-green corduroy jacket, shiny high-heeled boots and a black miniskirt (Tanya's, although I let the hem down about five inches). Apparently, not only am I starting to Get It; I'm also getting comfortable with Working It. And when you work it, especially when you work it with a song in your heart, the universe practically bombards you with the things you want.

Which reminds me: those things you ask for? You really do get them. So remember to work clean, kids, and be vewy vewy careful about what you let flit through your head and heart...

xxx c

Photo by Steve Rowell of Underspring Studios, new home of Not A Cornfield and the possibly the greatest neon sign ever fashioned

*I also got my hemoglobin count back up (thank you, chopped liver) and went back on meds. Occasionally, it's about external forces as much as internal ones. Or as my Favorite Ex-Boyfriend likes to say, "Sometimes, two things can be wrong..."