OHDAMN. I’ve been threatening to write a blog for years and now I’m finally here. Is anybody else here yet? Probably not (phew!). Because I have no idea what I’m doing. Yet.

I was inspired by a lot of very funny, smart, and generous people (mostly women) to send this first ping out into the abyss. I have no complete idea yet of what this is going to look like. My hope is that it will be fun and thoughtful, and that from time to time I will be able to talk about serious things without taking myself too seriously. I may not have a thick enough skin to put myself out there (and stay) like so many do; the “comments” section of the most benign posts is often troll soup.

I swear a LOT, so if that offends you, this might not be the page for you. I may or may not change that eventually; I have really nice skin, and I’m pretty sure it’s on account of all the swearing.

I write about things I think about, and things that are important to me. I strive every day to keep my damn mouth shut about things I have no experience with. Ditto things that are none of my business. Perfectly? Not even close. But trying, always trying. Usually trying.

I’m kind of obsessed with my dog, and will likely bore you to tears with pictures of her. She had a rough start in life; all we know about her past is that some jackhole dumped her over the fence at the animal shelter in the middle of the night. The best thing I can say about that is that at least they didn’t leave her on the side of the road. She is shy but sweet and almost impossibly good. She landed in a terrific situation (life is pretty great at our house); all dogs should have it this good. I really mean that. It will be a fine day when pet shops sell only supplies, and people who use dogs for fighting are publicly shamed and prosecuted to within an inch of their lives.

My husband is smart and damn funny. Also, I find him quite easy on the eyes. It is possible he’s more obsessed with our dog than I am. We are borderline hermits, and often wonder if we should be allowed out in public. I truly believed I would never get married, and was more surprised than anyone when it happened.

I am in my forties, and actually love it. The older I get, the more my internal filter rusts and falls away in great chunks (see suitability for public outings, above) . Turning 40 was very weird for me; I did a pretty thorough mental check as the milestone approached, and really believed it wouldn’t bother me. It did. There is a reason people predict you will freak out a little when you turn 40: you probably will, no matter how much you like your life. And you’ll be okay, too.

Welp, that’s me for now. Fingers crossed, future posts will be all snazzy with pictures and quotes and fractals and stuff.