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Some call me the space cowboy... Actually, no one calls me that. Not least of all because I'm a lady. A proper lady, with ambitions and passion and lipstick. I'm brimming with love and scorn, courage and fear, hope and disappointment, alcohol and pathos. And I make great pancakes!

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Thursday, July 8, 2010

A Brief Introduction Con Queso


"What's with the name?" people say, as I nod wisely to myself, preparing for an educational outpouring of explanatory information. In actual fact, people don't say that at all. I'm new here. No one's been here yet. I do not officially exist. But I fully expect, when people do discover my dark little corner, that they will ask. "A grim burrito? Was this a consequence of an unwise mastication after a night of wine drinking and bad decisions?"

And possibly it could be. But not in this case. It is merely a bad metaphor for life. Life is a grim burrito. Maybe it's fattening and bad for your heart? Perhaps it's too hot or it's icy in the center? It may be that the spices sting your tongue like a thousand tiny, red hot bees? Sometimes it is just right, tasty to a fault. The correct blend of just what you need. And other times...it is not.

I'm an optimist. I don't really believe life is grim. I believe it can be. I believe it has temporary insanity ingrained into its very genes. I believe there are monsters and evil and dissolving black shadows. But those are passing demons. Unlucky happenstance. Mostly I believe that life is full of possibility and wonder and beauty and emotion.

And sometimes I actually experience it. Even though right here, right now, the burrito is a few days old, not quite rancid and possibly savable, sort of like a Twinkie, filled with nasty preservatives and still edible after three years buried in a shoe box in the garden.

So if you're reading this, hi. And if you're not, well.

It hardly matters does it?


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