On tootling upon one’s very own horn

Ok before I brag some more I’d like to take a moment to justify myself.

Most of you know, that even though I grew up in a relatively successful middle class family initially, I ended up a street kid, with all that that entails.
The years between 10 and 30 in particular were not very outwardly successful for me.
And even though I have had lots of small triumphs they’re pretty exclusively intensely personal. Most people around me were/are not aware of the things that have kept me going and motivated me to keep attempting to do more than merely exist.

All sorts of odd circumstances have spun and melded in my life. I keep seeing these strange, twisted patterns that indicate to me that all these freakish coincidences are no coincidence at all. Things that seemed really, really, negative bring illumination dragging behind them like some spacey, changeling, stepchild. Cherishing and studying that wispy kid has given me much joy and sustenance.

But when I seem to basking a bit too much in my own love light, try to keep in mind that this is a person who right about 10 years ago, was secretly so very thrilled and tickled by her own key ring just because it had keys to the Tattoo Studio, her Dad’s house, her sisters cabin, the temple, her friends house, and the neighbors house for housesitting. Because those keys represented hard won trust.

Here is (the jist of) what I wrote to Nigel today as he was ruminating on a similar theme:

“I think (hope) there is a clearly discernible difference between a heartfelt celebratory tone and a "I'm King Shit" attitude.
One has every right to celebrate a hard won accomplishment, otherwise we have been overly brainwashed by the puritan ethic. Misplaced humility can be odious too. Think of Uriah Heep.
Natural expressions should feel comfortable, please be as kind to yourself as you are with others.”

So having said that, I had one of my pieces accepted in the student literary magazine.