Well, then. Earlier today I tried to get some things off of my chest, but it ended up seeming as if I was complaining. But I ain’t. I am happy as a little clam. Admittedly a bit lonelier than even I am used to, but this will be remedied as soon as I feel I have my house in order. I guess I am approaching this whole new phase thing in my life as if it matters regarding the whole clean slate aspect. Starting over again, new palette, new friends, new life. Basically everything I had been dreaming about since 1990 or so I got, including the move back to Colorado. My move to NY was supposed to be that clean slate but it wasn’t enough of a change I guess to incite much more than following the herd and going with the flow. And sometimes when you go with the flow, it takes some time to look up and see where you are at is not where you were ever meant to be going.

Oh the stories-I keep thinking I need to keep a separate journal of my adventures somewhere. Here it’s more diatribe and less cohesive.

On these notes much of my business push has been largely ignored given I am not in a space which is work-ready just yet. My things still lie scattered about a bit and I need to get them put away so that I can dedicate the brain space and time towards actually building this and the cancer bands in a direction which will satisfy my desire to help people. Mark my words, this will be the summer of finishing.

I am less than a week away from home base first sweep completion which should help immensely. The olive green in my bedroom is now a buttery color. The poo brown in the living room is now bright white primer, but by the end of it all, this place will literally be a freaking rainbow of colors. Blue in the kitchen, greenish and purple tones in the living room, butter pale yellow in the bedroom, orange and red in the office. Purple in the bathroom. Good thing I have painting skills as I can make any explosion look like it fits. Plus I am doing the ceilings so it’s way more finished looking than it is. I am going for less pigment and more of a color hint or sweep so it will be less dense and vibrating than my previous paint jobs.

I have an affinity for someone who is playing me perfectly. Just this much out of touch so that I wonder about him. Not in a Canada drop off the face of the earth and find out I’m injured way, but in a “oh, here I am, go ahead wonder, girl,” kind of fashion. A friend who has flipped into something more in my head after not so much contemplation, but definitely surprising me, given I thought I had made my mind up about not seeing anyone. But, I want to see him. And I haven’t seen him in some time now. And I wonder about him. And I think about him. And I kick myself because I didn’t want to wonder or think about anyone after the Canadian invasion and resulting mess. And the other mountain adventures here didn’t work out because the participating parties lacked a little something this guy seems to have, the least of which is common sense about how to keep the hunted on her toes. I guess after going through that whole mess and enjoying every single second hanging out with this guy, I have realized I enjoy his company. And he found his way into my head and consciousness. I really have wrestled with trying to throw the whole thing out and just ignore how I feel, but I am bad at that. So I have a bit of a crush on him, which we all hope doesn’t turn into the crushing reality of my heart smashed on the ground. And I am writing poetry again. I guess that is always a sign. I pick up the lyrical pen when I am feeling it. It. You know that thing that  it that leaves your belly flipping and your head spinning in delight. I haven’t written in some time, many many months, and I found myself doodling and drawing over the fountains of words that come rumbling out and tumbling down when I am most inspired. So, um, yeah. Color me red. That’s about as much as I can disclose on that subject.

Bands and new tshirts will be arriving soon, as well as some other fantastic news to keep this whole project on the up and up. It has existed all of two, three months. I am entering the entries from way way back in the day for my future biographer’s sake within the coming day or two…back to 2000. Pioneer of sorts? I’d say so. There aren’t that many people with as many blogs as I have had, and definitely not going back that far. But these will have photos, and will be deanna a la 23, 24 years old. I was pretty funny and rabid with my writing, but you will see that soon enough.