Well, I have officially made it to my 50th birthday. Technically, I entered the world at 11:40am eastern daylight time, having been born at the now defunct Dixie Hospital in Hampton, Virginia on June 20, 1972. I turned 40 in Hampton, since Bill had business trip, and we lived in North Carolina at the time. We visited my parents, and I got to see an old high school friend of mine, who treated me to lunch at a pub. I turned 45 in Alveringem, Belgium, and now I’m turning 50 in Antwerp. Antwerp has turned out to be an awesome place to celebrate.
This morning, I was surprised with a delicious mascarpone strawberry tart and champagne, coffee, an orange juice, and absolutely no room for anything else. Half the tart is being saved for later. Bill just handed me a birthday card. I usually get a mushy one from him, but this time, it was a funny card.
As I sit here looking at Bill, I thank God all of the crushes I had in my earlier years never worked out. I can’t imagine a more perfect man in my life. A lot of women dread turning 50, but I have to say, it’s not such a bad thing… at least not yet. I feel pretty good, and I have most of what I would ever want or need… and I get along great with Bill. So life is pretty okay right now, in spite of everything that’s happened since… well, since birth.
I may not be as young and pretty as I used to be… not that I was ever particularly pretty… but I did used to have a nice figure, smoother skin, and better eyesight. I do think I’m saner than I used to be. Things don’t upset me as much as they used to. I don’t have panic attacks anymore, and I don’t often have crying jags, unless it’s because I’m listening to beautiful music or watching a particularly moving scene in a movie, or something. It’s usually music that makes me cry, though. Especially live music. That’s better than crying because someone was mean to me or I’m overwhelmed by something.
And I’m grateful that I’ve been blessed with basic good sense and better health. I’m especially grateful that when I met Bill, even with all the challenges he was facing at the time, I knew he was the right person for me to spend my life with. I never thought I’d be that lucky, given that I don’t have tons of friends and never dated much. And yet, there he was, just when I thought I was going to be single. He’s perfect for me, and the best gift I could ever have.
As we were sitting at breakfast this morning, enjoying the strawberry tart and bubbles, I mused once again about how I somehow found the right person in the least likely place, ever. I have never met anyone who makes me feel more comfortable and at ease. The miracle is, I think he’d say the same thing about me.
This point was driven home over breakfast, when another couple showed up. They barely spoke to each other and seemed dissatisfied and unfriendly. Here we are in one of Antwerp’s best hotels. The staff is super friendly and helpful. And the lady is complaining about the coffee and cutting the crusts off her bread. She sent the coffee back twice, then the two of them sat at the table in silence, making it seem awkward for conversation even among ourselves. Who knows what was going on, though. God knows, I have my days, too. It was just something we both noticed. Maybe they’re both just very introverted… or they have the Monday blues.
Anyway… I’m sure the day will be full of surprises. Time to get off the computer and celebrate. Going to go home tomorrow and write up our visit, which has been a lot more fun than I was expecting. Antwerp truly is an awesome town… as long as you aren’t driving. 😉
By the way… just discovered this album. If you like jazz and Sesame Street, it’s fun!
I think we’re going to do some shopping today… and probably more beer drinking. I can’t think of a better way to spend my first day of being 50. Nor can I think of a better person to spend it with.
It’s time for another goofy selfie. Today’s featured photo was taken in Innsbruck, Austria, in August 2020.We’re both a bit broader and greyer.
Good morning, everybody. It’s November 16th, which means it’s my wedding anniversary. Nineteen years ago, Bill and I tied the knot under somewhat scary circumstances. He was a 38 year old man who had been through divorce, bankruptcy, foreclosure, domestic violence, and 9/11 at the Pentagon. I was 30 years old and recently graduated from a double master’s degree program that had put me in a lot of debt.
We met in a chat room in 1999. He was newly separated from Ex and had recently rejoined the Army as a full time officer. I had just started grad school and didn’t know anyone. We fell into a friendship in November of that year, finally meeting in person in 2001. When 9/11 struck and no one knew we were dating, we decided to go public… and not long after that, we got engaged.
Now, here I sit, pretty much debt free, but never having used those degrees I spent three long years working to earn. Bill is retired. The last nineteen years have been full of adventure and, for the most part, a lot of fun. I talked to Bill and my mom last night. Bill is in Poland on business. Mom is in Virginia, watching ships pass from the windows of her apartment, which offer great views of the Chesapeake Bay. I didn’t have much to say to Bill, since I last saw him at 4:00am Monday morning, before he flew to Warsaw.
To my mom, I said I was surprised by how well marriage has worked out for Bill and me. Especially considering how and where we met. Lots of people had doubts about the feasibility of our relationship. My mom, especially, was creeped out that we met on the Internet. She thought it was WEIRD. Years later, she admitted she was wrong to doubt us.
My career didn’t work out the way I had hoped it might. Now I think that’s probably a blessing, even if it’s hard on my ego. I had always wanted to be a writer. Sure enough, that’s what I am. Almost every day, I write something, even if lately, I’ve been putting up a lot of reposts. I don’t mind the reposts, since a lot of them eventually do get read, especially the book reviews. The reposts are, for the most part, from days when I had good thoughts to put down, and I see nothing wrong with recycling stuff. I live in a country where recycling is the law. Aside from that, sometimes I just can’t think of anything I want to write about that badly. That’s not a bad thing. Taking the odd day off is good for the soul and helps me recharge, and sometimes old posts are still entertaining or educational.
This morning, I was reading some old posts I’d written. I was trying to think of what I wanted to write about today. I found a post I wrote called “My Special Brand of Shitty Sunshine“. I had forgotten what it was about, but was intrigued by the title. One might think that post would be full of vitriol. Actually, it’s a fairly thoughtful post inspired by Caleb Wilde, the guy who runs the Facebook page for Confessions of a Funeral Director. I wrote it on May 19, 2019, after having read an insightful post Caleb had written. I was struck by his thoughts on why he writes, and I related to it so much so that I quoted him:
“Speak and write about your scars, not your open wounds. That’s the axiom you’re supposed to follow as a writer.”
Anyone who regularly reads my writing knows that I often write about my scars. However, like Caleb, I also write about my gaping wounds. Sometimes people don’t know how to take some of my more “honest” thoughts, especially about certain subjects. I have occasionally been on the receiving end of unsolicited advice about some of my content or opinions. Some have warned me that sometimes I come off like an ass. Of course, that only stands to reason, because just like almost everyone else out there, sometimes I actually AM an ass. I’m just being authentic. 🙂
On the other hand, people have also told me that many times, the posts about my open wounds are useful. They relate to them, or are entertained by them. Or, sometimes they SHOW me the posts are useful to them, by stabbing me in the back and talking trash about me to a certain mutual former landlady, or to likeminded people who don’t like me and want to stir up shit among themselves. While I’d rather people didn’t use my writings to cause trouble, there’s not much I can do to stop people from doing what they’re going to do. That’s the price I pay for writing down my thoughts and sharing them. Besides, since we left Stuttgart, most of that juvenile crap has stopped, since I have made a point of not engaging with most of the military community in Wiesbaden.
I know a lot of people make lifelong friends through ties to the military. My parents had some dear, wonderful friends from my dad’s 22 years in the Air Force. Bill and I have made a few friends, too. But, by and large, I’ve found that trying to make friends with most people is kind of a fruitless exercise. It’s kind of like dating. You date someone for awhile and break up… and sometimes you can be friends afterwards, but a lot of times, there’s too much pain and the relationship falls apart. I haven’t dated much in my lifetime, but I have found that I’ve had a lot of “friends” who turned out to be temporary. On the other hand, I’ve had other friends who have been around for decades, even if very few of them are “close friends”.
Maybe finding real friends is more like panning for gold, which in some ways, is harder in the age of the Internet. It’s easier to find “friends”, but harder to find quality friends. A lot of people think I’m weird, anyway, and don’t take the time to get to know me well. But, in fairness, I don’t invest a lot of time in them, either, because I sense that they don’t quite accept me the way I am. At my age, changing for the sake of a friendship that will probably be temporary isn’t worth the effort. So, those who take me as I am, like Bill… and even my mom, these days, are people I make an effort to keep in my life. There are a few true friends, too… including a couple of people I’ve never met in person and know little about.
But, in all seriousness, having been associated with the military lifestyle for the past 19 years, I gotta say that as much as I loved living in Stuttgart– especially since a total of six of our years as a couple were spent there– it really is the most toxic place we’ve ever lived. It’s even more toxic and dramatic than living on Fort Belvoir was. We spent four years living there, and we saw a LOT of drama. And that was before Facebook or Twitter! Stuttgart the second time was even worse, even though we didn’t live in a stairwell apartment but, in fairness, that probably was because of social media.
Caleb continues with this: “Burnout, secondary trauma, PTSD, depression, fear, disassociation, social anxiety . . . these are all a part of my concoction of diagnosed open wounds (more on the diagnosed part of things when I’m feeling up to talking about it). And these wounds rarely have time to heal when their source is your job. For some of us, like me, writing from our scars isn’t entirely possible because some wounds just remain . . . open.”
Well… he’s a funeral director, so he’s bound to see and hear a lot of sad stories. He’s not unlike a bartender or a mental health counselor of any stripe. I wrote the post that fathered this one in May 2019, before COVID-19 was a thing. Caleb’s business is bound to be even more difficult today than it was two and a half years ago. In fact, it occurs to me that I haven’t seen any recent posts by him. I just checked his Facebook page, and it looks like the last fresh post from him dates November 13, 2020. I can only assume that he’s very busy with his work. I hope nothing worse has happened.
But this is what he posted, almost a year ago… and I guess it offers some explanation:
There’s a sliver of time in a person’s life when society actually encourages us to care for ourselves. That sliver of time we’re afforded for self-care happens when we experience a loss. After we lose someone or something, it’s like all of a sudden everyone around us becomes caring and encouraging with phrases like:
“You can get through this!”
“It’s okay to express your feelings.”
And . . . “You need to take some time for yourself.”
And for a minute we believe them. We allow ourselves to let our space get a little dirty. Or maybe we stop shaving. Maybe we order out and watch more Netflix. During a loss, we let ourselves take care of ourselves.
But in the back of our minds we have an imaginary clock that’s counting down the days til self-care takes a back seat to “responsibility.”
Right now all of us are experiencing a loss. A loss of normality, of the rhythms were used to dancing to. Just like with the loss of a loved one, we’re suddenly having to learn an entirely new dance with no promise that the old dance will ever play again.
We’re friends, right? You’re here because you’ve read something I’ve written and you connected to it. So, as your friend, let me tell you:
“You can get through this.” There’s no promise the end of this will be the same as the beginning. It won’t be. But we can get to the other side.
“It’s okay to express your feelings.”
A lot of us don’t like the COVID versions of ourselves and that’s okay. It’s okay to be less patient, less stable. Take all the time you need to accept yourself as you are right now.
“You need to take some time for yourself.”
You can stay safe and not be a martyr. Nobody is asking us to sacrifice ourselves. Do something you like (the pic is me doing something I like). Stay away from things you hate. Train your mind to think on things you enjoy, not things that make you angry and fearful. You have total permission to care for yourself. I’ve been telling myself that it’s okay to be a little more patient and gracious to myself right now. I give that same grace and patience to the families I serve at the funeral home. I don’t have to starve myself of what I give.
I don’t know what Caleb Wilde is up to right now. I hope he’s alright, and the realities of life in 2021 haven’t buried him, either figuratively or literally. It occurs to me, though, that his writings about his scars and gaping wounds have inspired me, and taught me new things. Likewise, I hope some of the things I write are inspirational, educational, entertaining, or even just offer some reaction of some sort. Even if that reaction is disgust or anger… or something else negative.
And… just as I’m about to close today’s musings, James Taylor’s song, “Daddy’s All Gone” just came on. As I sit here, wishing Bill was home on our anniversary, and I’m reminded that his career has taken him away so many times… though so far, not permanently… I realize how prescient that song could have been for him. He wasn’t a James Taylor fan before he met me, but he’s come to appreciate his music. I’m sure I’ve played “Daddy’s All Gone” for Bill. It might have made him choke up, especially given that he missed out on raising his daughters.
We were supposed to see James play in Frankfurt on February 11. We have second row seats. Unfortunately, COVID-19 has fucked that up, and James had to postpone his European tour. I hope he gets here eventually. I really could use another show by him. I’m not surprised the tour was postponed, though. A year ago, we were supposed to see Keb’ Mo’ play in Mainz. He has postponed that show three times. At this writing, we’re due to use our tickets for last year’s concert on May 11, 2022. I had to look it up, because I can’t keep all of the updates straight anymore.
Well, I guess I’ve prattled on long enough. Those songs remind me I really need to practice guitar. Thanks to COVID-19, I may have more time for practicing, because I fear there may be another lockdown soon. Anyway… we’ll probably do something celebratory over the weekend. And maybe I’ll put up the fucking Christmas decorations while he’s gone. Wow… this year has flown by. Before we know it, I’ll be thinking about what to write on our 20th wedding anniversary.
Edited to add… Bill and I walked down the aisle to “Highland Cathedral”. I just happened to stumble across this rendition, and now I’m a blubbering mess. Seriously… it is GORGEOUS.
I can’t think of anything earth shattering to write about this morning. I guess the one thing I can say is that I survived the first night of the first TDY in a year. This isn’t anything new for me. Over the past 18 years, I’ve spent a lot of nights alone. Bill has always had to travel for his job. This particular TDY is longer than most, though. He wont’ be back home until March is more than halfway done.
I think we’re both getting tired of these kinds of trips. I was very fortunate as an Army wife, though, since Bill’s one deployment was for just six months. Granted, he spent those six months with a narcissistic jerk of a boss who made his life a living hell, but he made it home in one piece and, more or less, mentally sound. Having grown up with a father who was tormented by PTSD after the Vietnam War, I am very grateful Bill isn’t similarly afflicted.
I probably wouldn’t be so bitchy about it this year if we hadn’t spent the last several months locked down. In previous years, we’ve been able to go on vacations or even just out to eat. Or we could plan something for the future. The current lockdown is set to expire on March 7, but Angela Merkel is talking about extending it even longer. People are getting PISSED, too. Businesses are suffering, and some are wondering how they will be able to keep afloat. Germans are generally very law abiding and cooperative, but even they have their limits.
Bill was allowed to travel because he’s on business. No doubt, the people who run the little hotel where he’s staying are happy for three weeks of revenue. However, Bill did tell me that last night, he had to wait for the proprietor to arrive and unlock the hotel. When Bill put on a mask, the guy shook his said it was “okay” because he’s already had COVID-19. Um… I’m not so sure that means he’s not still at risk. I did have a chuckle, though, since it just goes to show that even the notoriously anal retentive law abiders of Deutschland will still bend the rules sometimes.
Vaccine roll out has been extremely slow here, too. This is a rare time when I’m kind of glad to be American, because Bill and I will probably be able to get vaccinated sooner on post than we could on the economy. Bill has already told me he will be dragging me by the hair to get my shot… not that I would refuse it. One positive thing I got from being in the Peace Corps is that I don’t get too upset by needles, as long as no one tries to dig for a vein. I’m usually fine with shots.
Last night, I watched a live stream of Vince Gill and Lyle Lovett. I’m a big fan of both of these guys. I saw Vince play with the Eagles in 2019, and Lyle played Stuttgart in 2009 and we attended that show. It was a great show. Both Lyle and Vince were so normal and it was obvious to me that they’ve been friends a long time. I enjoyed the stories they shared and the songs, some of which were ones I hadn’t heard. Vince did one song that was a tribute to John Prine. I loved it. I don’t think he’s released it yet, but it was very witty and kind of poignant… the perfect tribute, really. John Prine was such a gifted songwriter.
What was especially cool, though, was the effect watching had on me. At the end of the streaming session, they played “If I Needed You” by Townes Van Zandt. Next thing I knew, I grabbed my guitar and joined them. I went to Chordify, figured out the easiest way to play (using a capo on the 6th or 8th frets), and played along. I did well enough that I might be ready to record it sometime soon. Maybe that will be my goal before Bill comes home next month. That, and finishing reading my latest book. It’s time for a fresh review.
Bill was sad to leave yesterday. I think Arran knew he was going. I got a few photos of them before Bill had to go. Yes, there were tears. Bill made me lunch before he went and had a few tears in his eyes before he kissed me goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a kind and loving man for my husband and life partner. But you can see why I really miss him when he’s not here. He’s the best. Arran sure loves him. Noyzi is slowly coming around.
I did tell Bill I hope he’ll do what he can to bolster his cybersecurity skills. He earned a second master’s degree in cybersecurity a few years ago, but he hasn’t had a chance to put it to use. It’s a hot field, and perhaps working in cybersecurity might help curb the lengthy separations that exercise planning requires. Granted, he’s in a niche field now, and has good job security, but there’s more to life than money. After 18 years of this, I think we’re both a bit tired.
I wrote lyrics to a song called “Three Chords and the Truth”. But now I think maybe I want to change the melody. Maybe I might even make the song all mine, rather than just a parody of someone else’s song. For that, I’m going to need some more time and technique.
I learned a new guitar skill today. It’s a technique that involves the blues. Unfortunately, my hands are still too small and my fingers aren’t very flexible or dexterous yet. I’m still working on it. Learning to play guitar is very satisfying on many levels, although I’ve kind of been neglecting my vocals. Maybe I’ll work on those today, too. The more I work on music, the less time I have to sit and think about what’s wrong with the world.
Bill had to go into work again today, mainly because the Internet is still sucking pretty hard. It’s hard for both of us to work on the Net right now. I don’t know what’s going on with our ISP. Maybe they’re needing to do some upgrades. Anyway, we had a package waiting at the post office, so it’s just as well that he went in.
Not much else has happened today. I spent several hours washing the linens, took Arran for a walk, ran into a lady walking her horses, and did some writing on my travel blog. The writing and laundry took up the morning. I’m glad we went to the Eifel, although we probably aren’t interesting enough for most people to follow, especially in the midst of COVID-19. I’m finding that I don’t have much desire to go through the rigamarole required to visit a museum or some other indoor place, especially when not that many people seem to appreciate my efforts. For now, it’s probably better to blog mostly for myself. I do like to go back and read some of my memories, especially of many of the trips we’ve taken. I wish I were a blogger when we were in Germany the first time. We had some epic times when we were here from 2007-09.
I may take some time to do some music this afternoon… then try to finish my latest book so I can review it. Maybe I’ll think about where we can take our next long weekend, although I have a feeling we’ll be going to Stuttgart next, rather than a place we haven’t yet been. It’s way past time for us to see the dentist.
I guess the one thing I can mention is that SingSnap is about to launch a new Web site, since Adobe Flash is about to be obsolete. I’m not sure I’m going to like it. The Beta version is already available and I don’t like the layout much. People are also bitching about some policy changes that were made toward those who don’t choose to pay for a membership. It doesn’t affect me, since I am a paying member, although I have found that I’m kind of losing interest in the site. It could be because now I’m getting to the point at which I can accompany myself and maybe even play songs I never could before.
If anything good comes from a pandemic, it’s that I finally decided to pick up a guitar and learn how to play it. Now, I just need to learn how to play it well, so I rely less on karaoke and kind-hearted people to accompany me.
I do wonder, though… this is something that has crossed my mind a lot. Do people think it’s wrong to stay home? Do people think it’s wrong to stay home because of face mask requirements? Am I selfish for not going out and gamely supporting the economy? I don’t know. God help anyone who says anything anti-mask, though. Apparently, that’s what’s going to save humanity.
For the record… although I do comply with the mask requirements, I personally don’t think they do a lot of good. They make people feel better. Someone in RfM posted a rant about how they went to get ice cream. The girl who waited on them was wearing a mask and a face shield, but apparently neglected to wash her hands before serving ice cream or wear gloves. She touched her mask and her visor, prepared the ice cream, vanilla with almonds, and then “smooshed” it into the cup with her bare, unwashed hands.
The poster said nothing at the time, but was upset. S/he felt the ice cream was now contaminated. Maybe it was, although probably not by COVID-19, which I don’t think is a food borne pathogen… And, to be sure, it would not have been acceptable to “smoosh” the ice cream with bare hands even before the pandemic struck. But it just brought to mind the fact that a lot of people would not have noticed. They would have noticed her wearing the mask and the shield because it was obvious. But how many people actually watch when food handlers prepare food? That’s mostly why I’m not all that sold on the masks. Most people are simply not conscious of being scrupulous at all times. People get tired and careless, or they fall into old habits. The person who is dutifully wearing a mask might not have changed it in weeks. Or they might have been behind the counter picking their nose… You just don’t know.
Anyway, those are my thoughts for right now. Maybe I’ll be back if I get inspired, but I think I’d rather play guitar.
Wow… it’s already Friday! This week really flew by, thanks to our trip to Cologne. It was our first time in the city in seven years. We were last there in 2012, when we took our very first Space A “hop” to Ramstein Air Force Base and decided we wanted to try to get a “blind booking” from what was then known as Germanwings (and is now Eurowings). During that trip, we stayed at the Ibis Hotel in the train station. This time, we stayed at the Excelsior Hotel Ernst, which is a really nice property.
Because of our trip, I haven’t had much time to write. It’s not such a bad thing, though. I think I’m just settling back into the routine I maintained before my friend Alexis visited my blog every day and left me comments. Alexis is busy with her medical training, so she doesn’t visit as often… ergo, I have less inspiration to write. Also, some of you know, a few months ago, there was some drama on my original blog. Actually, it was one of a few unwelcome dramas that erupted since we moved back to Germany.
In spite of what some people might think, I don’t like drama very much. I simply like to write what’s on my mind. Sometimes, what I write gets people upset; they send me nastygrams, and it causes angst that I’d rather not have to deal with. It’s never my intention to upset people when I write, even though I know it’s inevitable. I think it would be hard to be interesting if I didn’t sometimes get people upset. However, I would be lying if I wrote that I didn’t care about other people’s feelings, because I do care, and I mostly regret it when people have a negative reaction to my writing. It’s exhausting and stressful to deal with other people’s angst when I have so much of my own.
Sometimes it’s really good to take a few days off, though. I’m glad I did that this week, even if it has knocked me off kilter a little bit. You see, one thing I did while we were in Cologne was lay off the news. I mean, yes, I heard about the headlines. I read about Jessa Seewald’s new baby girl, Ivy Jane (yea for a normal name, Jessa!) being born, and I heard snippets about Trump badly explaining his potential connection to Russia. I’ve seen braindead comments from Trump supporters, who can’t see that their dear leader is a narcissistic whack job. I even got a private message from one– a total stranger– who felt the need to call me “deranged”. Really? I mean, you could call me a lot of things, but I’m not deranged. I think anyone who believes Trump cares about them is deranged. The man is a very obvious narcissist, which means he can’t care about anyone but himself.
And I did see Mitch McConnell’s unfortunate mealy mouthed face in a couple of articles that indicated that he intends to obstruct any progress we try to make toward fixing the United States after Trump’s sorry term is history. I used to really dislike seeing pictures of Paul Ryan, because he always looked so tragic– like he wanted to burst into tears or something while he systematically worked to turn the United States into a right wing utopia. Just seeing Ryan made me want to clock him. Well… I now have the same– perhaps more intense– negative feelings about Mitch McConnell. But he’s not worth going to jail over, so I mostly just stifle them and thank heavens that I’m not in the United States right now.
My Italian friend, Vittorio, has often described American culture as “weird-o-rama”. I didn’t used to agree with him. Now that I live abroad, I can see what he means. It really is a strange culture, where people are so obsessed with forcing women to give birth, yet don’t care at all about the resulting babies born who need food, education, healthcare, and healthy parents who can nurture them. I do not understand pro-lifers who are not actually pro-life as much as they are pro-birth, and pro trying to force women to stay pregnant at all costs. It makes me think more people should read up on Romania during the 1970s and 80s and how the pro-birth attitude ending up working out for them.
On my old blog, I once notably wrote a post about how I dislike it when people attribute quotes to people who never said them. That particular post was about George Carlin, who happens to be one of my heroes. Someone had posted a meme falsely claiming that he said something he hadn’t. It irked me, so I wrote about it and caused a huge drama when the guy got pissed. He thought that I was busting on him. I wasn’t. I was busting on the practice of sharing memes with incorrect information on them. He wasn’t the only one; he just happened to be the catalyst. Well… someone shared another Carlin meme yesterday, but theirs was accurate… and I think it’s a pretty good statement on where we are today, even though Carlin said it in 1996.
Anyway, I think I like being a little less visible to people. I like it up here in Wiesbaden, where things are less dysfunctional and Facebook is less important. Stuttgart is a very dysfunctional place, even if it will always have a piece of my heart for being the one place Bill and I have lived the longest. My former blog still gets a lot of hits. I keep thinking maybe I should delete it. What stops me is that, despite the drama, some people find it useful, mainly for the book reviews and true crime posts. As for me, I just want a place where I can be myself, for better or worse.
Well, maybe this weekend, I’ll think of something more specific to vent about. Right now, I’m finishing a very poorly written book about growing up in Christian Science. I’ll probably review it soon. Maybe someone will inspire me to write something with more focus. Or maybe today will be a music day. It’s been awhile since my last one of those.
Hope everyone has had a nice week and a good May.
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