I have been feeling the urge to start writing again but after so long away, like two years maybe more of scattershot it is difficult to get back in the writing groove
I am looking at sunshine and preparing for a walk in history, I am applying for an apartment in a building that used to be a church in a neighbourhood I spent my happiest years in. On top of that I met my first husband while sitting on the front steps of this building while dealing with a broken heart.
I wonder sometimes if I hadn't been so naive if I would have married him first and been the mother of his children instead of the woman he did marry. Such foolishness to believe in the 80's that best friends shared everything including their girlfriends. Needless to say that fellow is not my KISA's best buddy any more.
KISA was the nick name I gave him when he rescued me from the steps of that church and he called me gypsy rose. I took that as my nickname for a long time because I felt it described me well.
He said I reminded him of Gypsy Rose Lee because of her style. From what I have read and seen of her I can't disagree, however I took a different meaning for it later in my life.
That of a true rose. One that spreads out or "travels"; its pretty but under the pretty there are thorns.
Reminder: check a URL before you paste it, an URL without a http:// causes blogger to choke.
Bloody hell in searching for a good image to explain what I meant by a traveling rose I lost all track of what I was talking about so I'm gonna grab a coffee and read a bit until it is time to head out to check this apartment out