Impulses of a Wild Woman

I once submitted a piece to Elephant Journal that outlined all the reasons people needed to stop reading EJ and go figure life out for themselves.

I once got a tattoo of a black widow spider, because the tattoo artist had one on his shaved head and I thought he was cute.

I once needed to disappear, so I put the dogs in the car and drove 10 hours to Kentucky. Nobody knew where I was for a week, except the man I was running away to see.

I once read a story about slaughterhouses and stopped eating meat that evening and remained a vegetarian for 6 years.

I once wanted to be a massage therapist. I got a yoga certification, instead.

I once took some racy photos of myself, which landed in my bosses inbox after I broke up with an ex.

I once danced in a fire, and never got burned.

And that piece to Elephant Journal? It never got published, but it's a really good piece.

And that tattoo?  It's a faded and crooked tramp stamp, that reminds me of my rebellious youth.

And that man I ran away to see? He married me a year later.