Did You Miss Me? (Don't Answer That.)

Soundtrack: Where Have you Been - Rihanna

Where have you been allllll myyyyy liiiiife? Rihanna wants to know. Fair. But she’s asking the wrong woman the wrong question — because the real scandal isn’t where you’ve been. It’s where I’ve been.

So. About the last year.

I’d love to tell you I disappeared to do something glamorous — a silent retreat in Bali, a torrid affair with a sommelier, a deep spiritual awakening that left me too enlightened to type. The truth is more pedestrian: life happened, the blog didn’t, and every time I sat down to write, my own website looked at me like a DMV form. Buttons. Plugins. “Update required.” A theme that fought me like a cat going into a carrier.

Turns out the thing standing between me and my opinions was software. Insulting, really. I have NEVER been short on opinions. I’ve been short on patience.

So I burned it down. (Digitally. Calm down.) New home, same me. Less wrestling with the website, more telling you what I think about the stuff nobody admits out loud — the ugly clothing trends, the indignities our aging bodies inflict on us without consent, why your brain drafts a grocery list at the least appropriate moments, and yes, eventually, the Cybertruck. Why are people actually buying that thing?

If you're new here: I opine, I observe, I obsess. Opinions are mine and not up for debate (challenging an opinion is a waste of a perfectly good afternoon). Observations spark questions. Obsessions are the crap that makes me throw my hands up and say words my mother wouldn't approve of. It's gender-neutral, it's not for the faint of heart, and it operates on the firm belief that most people are wearing leather and lace under their work clothes — or wish they were.

Here's the part where I ask something of you, which I hate doing, so I'll do it fast: hit subscribe. It's free. It means the next O lands in your inbox instead of relying on you to remember I exist — a big ask in this economy of attention. No website to navigate, no carrier-cat energy, just me showing up uninvited in your email like the friend who always has a story.

So let’s get back to it. I’ll talk (fine, write). You listen (fine, read). Nod, recoil, comment, or just let your inner voyeur enjoy the show.

Preview: skydiving! tattoos. blue water! red light for your hoo-ha?

So — where have I been? Doesn’t matter. I’m here now, the song’s still playing, and I missed this. Don’t tell anyone I said that.