It's just another full-moon Wednesday night ....

I promised I'd post every day this month, and all I've got tonight is  .... nothing. It's Wednesday night. The moon is almost full. I've invited big changes into my life, and they are happening. But I'm doing it all alone. I think that's how it's supposed to be for me. It must be. It's how things must be for red-headed bastard step-children.

I'm thinking who and what I will take with me as I change. The what is easy. The who ... that will be a surprise, but not to me. Because I'm doing this alone.

I don't have to be alone tonight -- there was that boy who walked me to my van-- but it's what I choose.

Yesterday another young man -- oh, these boys -- walked past me outside the library as I was unlocking my bike. He said, "They told me all the redheads were gone, but I knew they were wrong. And there you are. You are the most beautiful woman I've seen today." The girl who was with him had no front teeth, but she smiled and nodded; she's a victim of the meth.

I said, "Thank you. There are still some of us here."

He said, "My name is Enrique. What's your name?" He held out his hand.

I took his hand. "My name is Rose," I said, because that's the name I chose for Tuesday. And if I had chosen a name when I was born, I would have chosen Rose ... on Tuesdays. Red-headed bastard step-children don't really own their names anyway. They just borrow them.

"Rose, you are beautiful," he said.

I just smiled. I thought he might ask for money or to use my cell phone, because everybody wants something, don't they? But he didn't. He walked on by, and I put on my backpack and rode down the sidewalk toward home.

Tomorrow I'll put on my public face and write something for you about vaginas that will make you laugh, and when I see you, that's what we will talk about.

Tonight I'm filled up with the moon and her secrets, which I can't share. I just can't. The moon is lodged tight in my swollen trusting throat, but she's shining and soon she will wane. Then maybe I'll share some secrets. Or maybe I won't. It doesn't matter anyway.

Maybe you have a secret you want to share. Tell me. I'm good at keeping secrets ... Like the moon, I keep secrets much better than I share them.