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Let us go then, you and I. And dozens of others, and anyone else.

I’ve been a reader since I could read and a writer since before I could write. A longtime lurker on the blogosphere, I finally decided to stake my claim (without disrupting the natives) in this brave, newish world.

Expect words, the kind that are well-thought out and the kind that are written with a furious hand at some inappropriate hour. Expect depth and expect frivolity; I’ve not above posting pictures of my lunch or a close-up of my makeup when I’ve drawn exceptional cat eyes. Expect frequent references to Mr. Prufrock; the older I get the more I wonder about the nuances of side-parted hair and how to use a legitimate cat metaphor.

My dear J. Alfred, I have lingered in caves and in coffee shops. I have dreamed of drowning. You alerted me to the peach — lucky for me it was on a low-hanging branch.

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