Shes definitely not dead...

Yours truly, the Original Datress, has had a viciously trying, confusing, educational, (read: heartbreaking) year... Fun and games turned really, ridiculously, alien, head-fuckingly, heart-crushingly, bizarrely, all-encompassingly FUCKED with the Actor. This is one story that might need its own romance/pornographic/suspense-thriller novel.
Yes. It needs it's own genre.

Now; importantly, am I to start with this roller coaster ride of void-where-my-heart-once-healthily-beat non-fiction? Or backtrack and rehash the tiny titillating tales of intriguingly bizarre, comical dates, and casual sex?

I'll begin with a bit of light-hearted literature to try and get my grammatical-grove growing and flowing again.

Much love lil minxes.
It's good to be back ;-) xx