I've missed you!
Why are you forsaking your writing duties? I've been asked a million times (in my dream world, I mean, I've been asked).
Here's the breakdown, if you didn't figure it out already, I am no longer living with my husband. I moved out and am figuring out what to do with myself in a artsy fartsy downtown high-ceilinged loft.
Not a bad place to figure out these kinds of things.
Everything about the adoption? On hold. Everything we've discovered about the life of Fizzlita? Rearranged. What I know about this new living arrangement? Abso-frickin'-lutely nothing.
What I can tell you is that the Queen of Spain (no, not any real royalty, this Queen) sent me a link to an article she wrote for the Huffington Post that was published in the Chicago Sun Times, with a PICTURE I TOOK of her and her little girl. Her article and my image? Published smack mutha freakin' dab in the middle of a metropolitian newspaper.
My picture. Published. Taking up two pages of a tabloid newspaper.
I'm in awe. Shocked!
AND. I want to be paid. I mean, a woman needs to be paid, right? Aside from the principles of journalistic integrity. You know. Checking your sources? Giving props where props are due?
Nonetheless, I am thrilled and want that tabloid Chicago Sun Times article that I didn't write hanging in my living room.
For the record, the Chicago Sun Times photo editor told me, "so sorry! We don't know how this happened. We'll pay you the freelancer's rate."
Up in this mug, we take the Fizzle Rate. That's for stealing my picture and not giving me credit. It's a little higher than what they pay stringers. I'm from the industry afterall.
Since we've missed each other, here's a picture of me for you to hang on to. It's of me in my new digs. But let's talk before you send it to the Washington Post, yes?