Sneaking In

It's past midnight, sometime in July, it's summer I don't need a calendar.

I feel like a teenager sneaking back into the house after disappearing for an evening of eye opening adventure and UN-punishable sins.

Although I'm only lighting a small candle, I see this place is as I left it. 

Thats good to know.

How is everyone? Good I hope.
I'm doing fine thank you.
I'm alive, and kicking (potentially screaming sometimes) and doing well. My computer didn't blow up, I didn't loose the link to this journal, and I wasn't held hostage by anything remarkable. I just........ well,....... snuck out of the house for a while. 

A rather limp excuse for my absence, even unapologetic, but it tis what it is, me. I disappear in this world as often as I disappear in my 'real' world. In April I took movement to a new level and haven't paused much in-between. This computer collected much dust and my real home is in dire need of some cleaning as well.

I've been forced to stay in town for a bit, so I thought it was time to reconcile with these pages before another month passes. I'm failing miserably at keeping a documentary of my life in the nice chronicle order this realm offers. Whoops.

I'm really not ready to give up on the old Shadow of the Iris here, I just need something......to change within me. I need to open the doorways again and let the thoughts flow. I'll get there.

~~~~~~~~~~

My last entry gives me ironic pause.

I lived through turning 35 with only a few moments of numerical panic. I've pushed myself to act as carefree, young and spontaneous as possible over the last several months. Self assurance that I was truly vibrant and still kicking some serious life ass. It worked for the most part. Other then the fact I found out I have skin cancer last week. (stating that is like jumping out of a corner yelling Boo at people) That little bump in my road of life has royally pissed me off.

I blame my last entry. Sure as life, if you complain about insignificant, you'll get smacked with righteous perspective.

I'm not entirely surprised by the news. I've had enough pre-cancerous spots removed from my skin the past. The good news is I dodged the melanoma bullet once again, and got a less severe punishment for my fun in thesun with a nasty thing called squamous cell carcinoma. If given a choice, I would have taken some old basal cell cancer cells that make up 90% of skin cancers. But nope, I fall into the other 10% category.

No biggie, it doesn't appear to have spread, it's non-aggressive, it's fixable, it's a 95% cure rate, it's hardly worthy of a panic, but it still pisses me off. The bad news is this live cest pool of cancer cells is located on my face. I go under the knife, a procedure called Mohs surgery, leaving any potential vanity thoughts at the door, on Thursday. Meaning, I have no idea how much will be left of my face after they are done. Beauty.

Life event duly noted. Enough of that depressing little curable experience.
If I'm not scared, worried or alarmed, no one else should be.
I hereby swear I will never complain about another wrinkle, gray hair or birthday.
Karma
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There was a time, when AOL journals were united by a very special woman named Judith Heartsong.
She moved her 'location,' but I've never stopped reading her entries, admiring her art and basking in her outlook of life. 
Once again, she is opening the possibilities of wonderful creating, writing and unity through her journal with her
Artsy Essay Contest.
I encourage everyone to visit her journal, get to know an extraordinary woman and participate in her contest that starts the 15th.
I have two of her amazing pieces hanging in my home, my prizes for doing what we all do here.
Writing. 

Judith HeartSong