Here I Go

For many years people in my life have told me to write. 
Family, friends, strangers (seriously, strangers. No, seriously) Many, many times I have sat down at my desk, pen in hand, or fingers ready to tap tap tap those keys, creative juices flowing, and then....nothin'. It's was like every time I wanted to write, I instantly got terrible memory loss and forgot every detail of my life. Like nothing had ever happened to me. 


Well for anyone who knows me...even a little bit, this is clearly not the case (more on that later)


So about a year ago, I sat down in the blistering summer heat, in an apartment in Washington Heights with a few creative-genius friends and brainstormed about a show - a cabaret - that I wanted to put together. I was single at the time, and dating (A LOT) and let's just say, I had a few anecdotes. Well the show was created, it went off without a hitch, a huge success, a major triumph in my career and professional life.(Thank you Lilli Wosk & Robby Sandler. Michael Alden! Lucie Arnaz, David Friedman, Ron Abel, Ben Luckinbill, Sidney Myer, Sam Lazzara & David Ostrem!) But then...I met someone, I stopped dating, and so many of the stories I had once remembered so clearly were starting to fade...becoming distant blacked out memories of a time long since past. All in all, this effect was probably best for my self worth and sanity...but for my creative writing...a complete disaster. 


What would I possibly write about if not the ill-effects of online dating on my digestion and self-esteem?! What would I do without perpetual nights alone and confused about why boy number 6 or, 36, said he would call and DIDN'T!?! How would I ever find creative fire again!? What was I supposed to write about??! Being happy and in love??? Gross. Vomit. Puke in my hands. Who wants to read that?


But then...a lightbulb. 


Ding! (or whatever sound a light coming on would make if we could hear them...anyway...)


I am more than my dating history.
I am more than just a face on OK Cupid. 
I am Katharine Desiree Luckinbill. Goddammit. 
I have the mouth of a sailor and the observational skills of an FBI agent. 
I (might) know shit! 
I have seen shit!!


And I wanna write it all down. 


Starting now.