Just where have I been
is the million dollar question. Did I go into hiding or was I merely detoxing in the Alps? Had I been recruited as a spy with orders to work behind enemy lines? Was I forced into an arranged marriage or was I in the
wild Wild West simply chasing after a new dream? Or might I have been handcuffed to my laptop in the land of flakes, fruits and nuts crafting of a very different manuscript from my Shebug Stories?
Part of the answer lies
in California, where I camped out for two months. One thing is for sure-for sure:
I rode one hell of a roller coaster, got badly rear ended, saw two seriously shackled San Quentin
prisoners in the emergency room – on different days - and spotted my first road
runner ever... Beep beep!
I zigzagged my way from
high drama to opressive quiet, emerged a little worse for wear but made it
back to London - via Dallas for 7 hours - in one piece and did not get charged for excess luggage. Now I call that a
triumph in survival skills!
Yes, I will be back
writing. It’ll be the same old me but with a new voice. Deeper. Huskier. And
very real.
I set off for the good old US of A with
looooong hair and a dormant look only to return with a sassy hairdo, eyes wide open and, OMG… a tan.
I’ve ditched the pale
pink shimmer lip balm and do not leave the house without my red lipstick. It
speaks volumes. Why? Because once you ditch the what-will-people-think/say/tell-restrained-for-the-sake-of others’ voice for the fullness of YOU, the right
shade of Read-My-Lips Red is the only shade you’ll ever need!
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