You know, I feel it important to tell you, there is never a one part story/post/blog about me/from me. I might add something out of the blue, weeks months or years down the road, but to me it's vital to the story.

...So here's the story about me.....

Far out in a tiny village high in the Arctic, a wolf mistook a human papoose for her own. It was a wild encounter, which inspired that human child to learn and grow beyond boundaries for generations to come...

I'm sorry, some wild fantasy interrupted me.

I'm from a very small town, not quite in the Arctic, but a whole whopping 62.5 miles north of Sweetgrass, Montana. (those relative distance/time/place/event memories never help anyone, mapquest.com is far better).

I come from the later in life dalliances of my parents, yes, indeed, I am a mistake. Pure and simple, I wasn't intended to be, at all. I'll live...I suppose. I had older siblings, and they have their stories...

My story didn't happen with a climactic moment in time, history, or society. Just a stupid kid...got through public school, married in college and led to a great deal of bad influence, and good lessons to learn. I've worked for don't know how many years as a dry cleaning presser, and there's a lot of history there too, it's bringing itself to life in my medical history as I age. Don't let yourself or your kids go into dry cleaning. It's a killer industry. Everything in a perchloroethylene cleaners is cancerous, or worse. Don't let it happen. People can iron themselves, and wash their own clothes. It's a lesson I've learned, and that I hope will influence the choices and mindsets of people for eternity...or close...

What made me think that I've got a story to tell?

Now that I've had a cigarette, I can fill you in. Some things happen in every life, that move to create the background...foreground...shadowing...nuance...you get my drift...of our existence. Mine happened early one winter morning...

And after the course of instants and moments, days, weeks, months, years (We're at 10 years and counting), I'm able to say that it's been a hell of a ride...

...starting out, leaving my apartment building in Rochester, NY, I slogged through half a foot of water on the avenue to get to the city bus. It took me down to my first stop...got off, crossed at the triangle intersection, and slipped into the warmth of the bagel bakery. One "everything" bagel, cream cheese, one little napkin, one plastic knife, and one little bag, out I went. Joe at Bagel Land, love you, Man.

Onto the next bus, freezing rain and howling wind on that January morning. After a 7 word morning greeting with another early day traveller I knew. Back over to the bus stop, got on my bus, which slogged through snow and slush and muck to make its way. Evil cold that day.

The boss shook and grumbled down Monroe Avenue, stopped grudgingly a few times for rushed traffic, and pulled in for me across from the dry cleaners. I won't name them here, but I'd never recommend them, either...

I crossed the main avenue, behind two of the ladies who worked in the shop I worked in...I paused at the curb, turned to my left and waited for my coworkers to cross...I couldn't get my cigarette to light, I was three steps off. They crossed safely.

I didn't.

I laid my head on the shoulder of the young man driving, and I recognized him. He was the son of dear friends of mine, we were all fast friends from the day we met. Great kid. I recalled the dinner the night before, and remembered helping him with his homework while we all watched a movie. I couldn't dwell on that, I'd already ripped his windshield off with my face, and I was about to be launched for an approximated 80 feet off the hood of his car.

I woke up. I remembered some scary scenes from around me, and I went into a coma. When I came out, they'd woken me. I had woken once, but they induced a coma so that I could die peacefully.

I was broken, and I asked the surgeons (head to head in conference over my bed) if they'd get me a smoke and a Pepsi and shoot me. I said please.

They kept saying no.

It changed my soul, my body and my heart, it destroyed everything I'd gained, and with my clothes and belongings, with furniture left behind, with nothing more than two suitcases and my purse, I walked away when I lost my apartment. I lost it all.

The man who saved me...who got me home, helped me heal, found me help and support, advice, counselling, he helps me daily, and he lets me keep my dignity with what I have to face. He's an amazing man, and I cannot tell you all what a remarkable man Eric Burgoyne ( @ericburgoyne ) is. I hope I tagged him correctly, you can tell him if you see him.

This is who I am, and among other small things, this is the personality I bring into blogging. You'll find I'm either joking, attempting humor, or busy with something, but I'd love to talk and learn about you. For now, I'll use this avenue for my blogging, and share a lot more about me, and who I am.

The stories I write and send to major publishers, that's labor. I intend this to be very real, but also funny. There is great humor in our world and our relationships with others, let's all be reminded of that.

Oh, and jokes. I will tell jokes. Bad jokes. Guaranteed....