Shall we dance?

Why, hello little flock! How you must have missed me. I feel the same way: the Internets have glowed a little dimmer without our witty banter. Facebook is fine for letting us know Which Fairy Godmother Are We, and whether Shelby Lynn is totes citers for the Wham! reunion concert at Mystic Lake, but for in-depth, citation-laden discourse, we need us a blog.

Not convinced? For you naysayers, let me anticipate your grousing: I mean, really, didn't we read on and on and on about me for ages? Yes you did, and God love you for it. And I too really hate blogs that begin with some version of "These are just my random musings about life and love. But—

There is nothing. random. about. me.

What I have learned about writing—blogging, specifically—the last couple years, is that it provides me with a focus for thoughts that otherwise take up too much space in a brain that needs to remain oiled and ready for more important things. And, it turns out, several people (possibly 1 in 5 of those who claim to know me) enjoy, if not what I have to say, then at least how I say it. So here I am.

The gay way, in this case, simply means my way. I am quite a particular being, and have particular thoughts about most everything. I don't say that to elicit a knowing nod or chuckle; I am dead serious. I don't walk down the street without noticing every house, each yard, every person, each tree. As I take note, I do a quick mental makeover of that which I find distressing. Not to make the house or tree something it's not, but to make it, in my estimation, the best it can be given its special little place in the world. I don't really even think about this exercise anymore; I've been like this since I was a kid, plaid pants and all (and there was a LOT of plaid—when I succeed at being thin as a rail sometime this winter I'm getting new plaid pants). My thoughts aren't better or more profound than your thoughts, my judgments aren't somehow more correct . . . oh, who are we kidding. Of course they are! That's why you're reading.

But I am more than just another altruist, a run-of-the-mill do-gooder. As much as I give, I have needs too, and I need order out of chaos, people. When I was in school, oh-so-many-months ago, I could bring clarity to the conflicting elements of my life by sharing them with you. This summer, though, I'm a bit unmoored: college years are behind me, I have some job leads but nothing solid, grad school plans are s-l-o-w-l-y coming into focus. I have several writing projects that are in nascent stages, and they need this blog, too. Because when I blog, I meet up with all of you, and our relationship inspires me a great deal.

I intend for us to be a bit topical here, to take a position, explain an experience, search for an answer, shine a light on some small cultural lunacy. And it will be the gay way—the way that is honed by all the talented, peculiar, smart, funny, quirky people with whom I relate—along which we'll tread. Or skip. Or, if we're feeling particularly flexible, dance en pointe.

Shall we?