Again, a cover story for my blogging… covert, sneaky. I should be sighing at myself. Finding that I prefer Blogger to LJ, I am migrating here, perhaps relocating. I’m unsure if I’ll sink the LJ, but I debate whether to recreate my old blog here. There is, I must say, a great deal of flexibility to account for. That said, I write. I write for little other reason than to share– share stories, anecdotes, and revelations. To make the individual occurences universal, to leap the gap. When I was small, my father called me a little gazelle. This was because I would jump all over the house, hurdling over couch arms, bounding over chairs, bouncing into walls. I’m still jumping today, trying to bridge the distance between minds, to make connections, and also to assure my peers that the garbage barrels lined up right in a row are no challenge to my leaping ability. Small wonder those words stick. Maybe I am a gazelle. Maybe only in the most unconventional ways.