I'm baaaccckkkk ....

Go ahead. Take your best shot. Swat me. I've been a naughty blogger. I've been an absent landlord. I've been too busy to write. I've been going on adventures. I've been making excuses.

To be honest, I've been teaching at a magnet school for the arts here in this fine city, and when I teach, I give my energy to that. I find it's hard to write my own shit when I'm teaching other people to write. So I'm enjoying my time teaching creative writing to high school kids, but I've had a lot going on and teaching -- lesson planning, showing up, lesson planning -- has taken up the time I usually spend writing.

And then last night somebody set my neighbor's front stairs on fire, and I called 911 and then I was out there in the street talking to a police officer and some very hot firefighters .... Who can write when there are hot firefighters flames?

Yeah, it's just another fucking excuse. Ask any writer: we're full of shit excuses. (Although the fire really did happen.)

I'm changing my ways though .... well, as of this Friday, November 1, I'm changing my ways. I'll be going crazy posting every day during the month of November for NaBloPoMo. And believe me, this will be the craziest month ever for me to post every day. You'll find out why soon enough.

For tonight though, I just wanted to check in and remind you that I'm still around. And I wanted to tell you a short story about something that happened earlier tonight.

Tonight was my night with my granddaughter Coraline, but a good friend called and said he wanted to come over and talk to me about something. I told him to come on over. Coraline and I had just finished making some deviled eggs, which we do almost every week now.

So he and Coraline were eating deviled eggs and we were talking, and I don't really even remember what we were talking about, but I said, "Well, yeah. You're like a brother to me ...."

And he said something like, "You've never said that before. That means a lot to me." And he walked across the kitchen and hugged me. He may have been a tiny bit teary.

I said, "I've probably told at least 25 people that you're like a brother to me. I've never said that to you?"

He said, "No, I don't think you ever have. But I'll take it. That means a lot to me."

So my message tonight is this: Just fucking tell people how you feel about them. I know. It's trite. You've scrolled by that message on afuckinghundred Victorian greeting cards on Facebook. I'm telling you again: Say it.

You may think people know how you feel about them, but unless you come right out and say the words, they're only making assumptions. And they may assume wrong, or they may not assume enough. Put it into words. It's important.

Sure, my friend knows I love him. He knows I'd do almost anything for him. But I really do think of him as a brother. I think of him as family. And even though we've talked about a lot of deep shit over the years, I guess I hadn't ever told him just how very special he was to me.

He deserves to know.

So don't hold that shit in. Come out and say it. In fact, I challenge you to tell one person today how you honestly feel about him or her. Just one.

And then if you get hit by a fucking bus 20 minutes later, you'll leave that one loose end tied up in a heart-shaped bow.

Unless, of course, it's somebody you hate whom you decide to tell how you really feel, and then you can die knowing you got in one last kick to the groin, and seriously? That might feel almost as good. Because seriously? I can think of a few people in my life who are like the creepy uncle I'd like to kick in the balls or the alcoholic nephew I'd like to cut out of the will or the lying ex I'd like to .....

I think I've digressed .....

You have your orders. Tell somebody how you feel. Report back in the comments below. I'm sitting here with a box of wine and a bowl of buttered popcorn waiting to hear your stories. Don't disappoint me. A girl could get fat waiting.