I try to keep my personal life, personal. I try not to force my abundance of ish on the blogosphere masses (or the 63 of you that read my nonsense). And frankly, I can hardly force myself to care about my own shit, so I can't imagine that anyone else might.
So here's the deal... not the excuse... the real deal Hollifield.
In February, my boyfriend of over two years and I split... boo hoo hoo, right? Everyone's got a sad story... Except I wasn't sad. Or I thought I wasn't. It was a long time comin' and all for the best. And I finally, somehow, managed to untangle myself from his infinite web of lies. But there was a life that had been created with him. There was a future that had been planned. And that was all gone.
Apparently, I coped by quitting life.
I mean QUITTING life. Or rather, my old life... the life I had with him.
I moved out of his rental house that I was sharing with his sister (ummmm... obvy... there is potentially no bigger shit storm than having an ex as a landlord), I stopped auditioning, I quit looking for a new job, I started going out every weekend with my ladies, I abandoned Facebook and email and returning calls, I forgot to eat, I drowned myself in Reality TV and age inappropriate dramas. And sadly, I bailed on the blog.
I just couldn't find anything funny to say. I couldn't find ANYTHING to say, really. I was too busy running.
But it's time to face the G.D. music. I'm a grown ass woman. And it's time to rejoin civilization... okay, no it's not, but it IS time to seek out that which I love again (i.e. acting, blogging, NOT working as a medical receptionist.) This bitch is back, baby, buckle up... (and ps- that alliteration just kicked Shakespeare's ass)
So here's to the next chapter... 'Cause it's my memoir. So no one can write it but me.