Two for Tuesday: Money Honey

Two ducks in Los Angeles (my photo)

Today would have been my parents' 69th wedding anniversary, so it's only appropriate that I post about two love stories I watched over the weekend. Of course, the movies are fictional, and my parents' love was real, though you might not have known that if you witnessed their constant arguing. For decades, up until my mom's death in 2008, I wondered why they stayed together when they were so different, but I finally understood that they simply loved each other despite all the bickering, cold silences, and threats to leave. I vowed that my life wouldn't be that way, and it wasn't... until it was. Unlike my parents, I did get a divorce (two of them, in fact), and I never ended up with a great love like they had.

One of my parents' ongoing conflicts had to do with money, which I've read is a very common conflict, though neither of my marriages ended because of that. Both of the movies I'm reviewing have financial security as a central theme, which wasn't planned at all, but it makes this post more cohesive. 

1. Cocktail (1988) stars Tom Cruise, Elisabeth Shue, and Bryan Brown. It was written by Heywood Gould and directed by Roger Donaldson. Tom plays Brian Flanagan, who is straight out of the military and now thinks he should be able to land a high-paying job on Wall Street and make a million bucks without any experience or education. After being turned down repeatedly and told he needs a degree, Brian enrolls in college and takes a job as a bartender to pay the bills. Bryan plays Doug Coughlin, a philosophical poet of a bartender, who tries to impart his life's wisdom to "Young Flanagan" on the topics of (a) shorting drinks in a theatrical way so customers won't notice; (b) reciting poems on the spot to entertain the patrons; and (c) focusing on getting a "rich chick" to finance his future. Doug does get his rich chick, but he screws that up with bad investments, and Brian gets his eventually too ~ Jordan Mooney played by Elisabeth Shue ~ though her father vows not to help them because he doesn't like Brian (understandable from his POV). In order to get the girl, however, Brian first has to have his epiphany that money doesn't buy love or happiness. 

Critics hated this movie, but it was a smashing success with audiences and generated a huge payday. I liked it a lot (though I agree that some of the dialogue was clunky), and I particularly enjoyed the showmanship and banter between Brian and Doug. Critics complain that much of the story was "unrealistic." Yes, it's fiction, not a documentary of bartending. Critics also moan that the ending was predictable. Yes, it's a romance, and romances end happily, else they wouldn't fit the genre. This is my third or fourth rewatch.

2. Materialists (2025) stars Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, and Pedro Pascal. It was written and directed by Celine Song. Dakota and Chris are exes Lucy and John who clearly still have feelings for each other and are both struggling financially to make it in NYC (the movie doesn't explicitly say that Lucy has money issues, but imo it's implied, and she does admit to making $80K, which isn't much in New York), and Pedro plays Harry, a super rich guy. Lucy works for a matchmaking agency, and she's perfect for the job: warm, nurturing, encouraging, etc., while brutally honest about "the math." In dating, the math means coming up with a formula consisting of age, income, background, politics, physical attraction, etc., before setting up a date. It's fun to listen to the ridiculous things people want and expect from a potential life partner while bringing quite less to the table. Reminds me of my good old days of dating and how traumatic it was to be considered and rejected, though I can laugh about it now. Lucy wants the math to work for herself too, which is why she begins a relationship with Harry, and like Brian above, she has to arrive at her epiphany moment before she ends up with the true love she craves.

Critics were much kinder toward Materialists than to Cocktail, but there really isn't much difference in my view. Both had unrealistic aspects and predictable endings. In Materialists, there's a surgery that the uber wealthy men can get for $200K that increases their height (breaking their legs and making them longer with extensions), but I don't see anyone panning that in my brief foray into reviews as they did the crazy bartending stunts. I enjoyed the film and wouldn't mind seeing it again in a few years. Dakota Johnson is one of my favorite actors, along with fellow nepo baby Kate Hudson. Hey, if they're good, I don't care who their parents are. 

I watched both movies on HBO. 

Confessions of a Lazy Blogger

 

My daughter's kitty Zizi who passed a while ago

I have been enjoying other bloggers' long posts full of links and photos and diary-like reporting of their lives, and I think yeah I should do that too. Then I think nah I can't be bothered. Today I had planned a longer post for Jim's Song Lyric Sunday, which would have featured the song "I Hate Myself for Loving You" by Joan Jett, who was born in September (the theme). I had the idea of relating the lyrics to my own experience of the same, as this month marks the 10-year "anniversary" (9/25/16) of when I met the Michael who ghosted me at Thanksgiving (as opposed to all the other Michaels). I was going to jabber on about the significance of the square numbers, and go through the whole boring story again, even though some of you have heard it a few times already. 

Meh.

I find that I just don't care enough about it any longer to talk about the details. If it's uninteresting to me, I am pretty sure I can't make it sound interesting to you. Plot twist: I'm happy that I no longer care about what happened 10 years ago or any other dating experiences. They're all a big stupid blur of who gives a f*ck?

Nothing else grabbed me to post for SLS, so I thought OK I will do Joyce's Hodgepodge. But the theme is football. I mean, it goes beyond football, but ugh. Football. If I participate and share my link, then I will need to read other posts on the topic to participate fairly... blech. This is nothing against people who enjoy football. Some of my best friends like football. Hah.

I saw someone in my feed post about "lilac," and I followed the link back to the OP, who are a couple peeps I interacted with years ago on Wordpress, but they have their comments disabled. Blogspot posts do not "ping back" to another post when you create a link; the only way to alert another blogger that you tagged them is to go over there and leave a comment. I don’t mind doing this occasionally, but if comments are disabled, I don't feel like dealing with it, going to all the pingbacked links, hoping for a few return visits, blah blah, even though I might have done that if I could have commented, which makes little sense as it's the same thing, but hey. Then I thought, fine, I'll just do my lilac post for my loyal readers who come here of their own free will just to read exciting posts like this one.

Meh. I was out of the mood by then.

Generally, I avoid the diary type of posts because I have to leave out too much, since I don't post about work in any specific way nor do I want to say anything about family or friends that they might not like. I have been burned before in writing about these topics. It doesn't seem like anyone I know in "real life" reads this blog, but if I ever mention something like say a roommate I had back in Huntington Beach, then you can bet they will come slithering out. I do use the name Michael, and occasionally Jim, as there are a kabillion of them, and I doubt one will want to make himself known by jumping up and yelling YES I'M THE AHOLE!

I see that the Sunday Whirl Wordle has some really pretty words in it like mosses and plumes and forest and ruffle, so maybe if I get over my lazies I will write a poem with all the prompt words. Hazy images are starting to materialize in my mind...

Here's the bottom line (literally): I don't want blogging to take much effort. If an idea for a post turns out to be Not Fun and a Giant Chore to continue with, I delete it. If participating in a "blog hop" takes a bunch of work, I'm out. There are too many books I could spend time reading instead.

Every Breath You Take (flash fiction)

AI flowers and candy

Some people thought he was too intense for his own good.

Glen had never been able to do anything halfway. It was all or nothing, whether work or play or romance. And the irony was that Valerie had said she loved that about him. She had loved his constant calls and texts, his relentless attention to detail, his devotion to her needs, his thoughtful gestures and gifts, and his steady presence to make her feel secure. Or at least she had said she loved all those things before she decided it was too much. 

“Maybe she’s not my soulmate after all,” Glen cried to his mother during their weekly chat. “She doesn’t seem to appreciate or even acknowledge anything I do now. I gave her a box of candy when I brought her breakfast, and she threw it on the floor.”

“Face facts, darling,” his mother replied crisply, as was her way. “You’re too good for her. You’ve spoiled her rotten with nothing to show for it. Time to move on.”

Glen glanced at his laptop and rechecked the app he used to track Valerie’s movements. He thought maybe she would be writing him a note of apology or thanks, but she was just staring off into space. “I guess you’re right, Mumsy. She was treated so badly by her ex that she freaks out at my pure and honest heart.”

“Have you considered that you’re a bit too intense? Try not coming on so strongly with the next one, dear.”

Even his own mother was criticizing him now! Glen slammed his phone down in frustration. But she was right about one thing: he needed to quit obsessing over Valerie and find someone new. He began with the apps and methodically deleted each one he had been using to track her. He deleted every email and text, and he emptied the trash can. There was only one more loose end.

Glen sighed as he clomped downstairs to his basement apartment with the syringe in his hand. He politely knocked before using his key in case she was getting dressed. So annoying to have to dispose of another dead body, but she had left him no choice. Maybe he would go to that speed dating thingie tonight after he cleaned everything up.

~*~

Written for Fandango’s Story Starter 260 and inspired by the song “Every Breath You Take” by The Police (songwriting credit goes to Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner, from the 1983 album Synchronicity).

Jelly Bean Jealousy

Dragon guarding jelly beans (Meta AI)

I like the slang word "jelly" for jealousy. It's softer, lighter, not so murderous. Look at that dragon in the pic: would he set you on fire if you touched his candy stash? Maybe he would, or maybe he'd be only a little bit jelly. Jealousy is more about wanting to keep what you have rather than simply desiring what someone else has (envy). A jealous husband doesn't want men to flirt with his wife; an envious husband wishes he made enough money to afford a fancy car like the guy next door. But we often use the two words interchangeably, and so be it. Everyone knows what we mean, which is the important thing.

Back when I was interested in romantic relationships, I wasn't really a jealous type, as far as worrying about who might be talking to "my" person. I guess I never thought of anyone as "mine" in that way, and it still seems weird to me to claim ownership of someone. I mean, if "my" person would rather go off and be with someone else, then good riddance. Why would you want to be with someone who is no longer interested in you? Ick. That doesn't mean I was into polyamory (not that there's anything wrong with that) ~ it just means that out of all my OCD behaviors, jealousy wasn't among them.

Sometimes people want you to pretend to be jelly (in the romantic sense), so I would go along with that, and vice versa. It all seems so ridiculous now. So much wasted time. But it's easy to feel above it all when I have no interest or desire; back in the day, I definitely wanted to find someone. Now though, I'm too jelly of my free time, my me-time, to squander it on a date. I hoard my non-working hours like precious treasures because every week there are fewer of them left, and at some point, not too far into the future, they'll all be gone. A human lifespan is such a blip, a blink, in the evolution of the universe.

~*~

Written for Linda's Stream of Consciousness Saturday (jelly).

Blueberry Hodgepodge

Fruit salad image from Pixabay

I'm participating in Joyce's Hodgepodge (from this side of the pond) again this week, where she asks a series of interesting questions.

1. What's something you enjoy now that your younger self would never have appreciated? 

I appreciate a weekend with absolutely no social plans so I can read, exercise, watch TV, putter around on my blog, work on a puzzle, and basically do whatever I please with zero obligation to anyone else. When I was younger, I would feel anxious and lonely if I had no social plans. 

2. What was peaceful about today? 

See above! This is my third day of me-time with no social plans, and I'm enjoying every moment. I've exercised a lot, read a lot, and watched a bunch of silly movies, including Mamma Mia for the zillionth time. Now that the fireworks are over, it's quiet and lovely... I'm taking the opportunity to create more blog pages and posts to schedule for later.

3. It's National Blueberry Day (July 8). Will you celebrate?  You can have one of the following right now-a slice of blueberry pie, a warm blueberry muffin, or a stack of blueberry pancakes...which do you choose?

I celebrate blueberries every week! They're super nutritious and delicious. I usually have them plain, but for a decadent treat I mix them with a rice pudding cup. Any of the choices presented would be fine. If I had to choose, I'd probably go with the pie as it's the most blueberryish.

This or that-blueberries or raspberries? blueberries or strawberries? 

Blueberries always, thank you. I do enjoy them mixed with strawberries, banana slices, and grapes. The peaches in the image look delicious, but I find peaches, nectarines, and mangoes from the grocery store to be very hit-or-miss as far as texture/ taste. Coconut is a welcome addition to any fruit medley for me.

4. Do you need a break? From what? 

I am on a "break" until the next month-end at work, which is always super stressful lately. Until the 20th or so, everything is fine.

5. What has surprised you most about getting older? 

My complete loss of interest in dating. For several years after my divorce, I was obsessed with the idea of meeting someone new and having the "once in a lifetime" fabulous romance that I missed when younger. It didn't happen, and around 8 years ago, the desire vanished. This occurred after a totally disastrous (short) relationship that spun me into a depression for quite some time, and when the black dog slunk away, so did any longing for love (of the romantic variety). It continues to surprise and delight me that I have no interest, especially when I see people, even my age, angsting over how awful it all is. It is awful! No offense to anyone who has found their person, but searching for one when you're older is a nightmare.

6. Insert your own random thought here. 

The two kitties who live here (my Inky and my housemate's Autumn) had no reaction whatsoever to all the noisy fireworks last night. The booming began before sundown (seems like a waste to me, but what do I know?) and continued on for hours and hours. I went to bed around midnight, and it was still super loud outside. The cats though? Business as usual. 

Spark My Interest

Sparking light bulb image from Pixabay

So many things spark my interest that it can be hard to focus. There are always a zillion books I want to read, a zillion minus x shows I would like to watch, poetry to write, pictures to paint, exercise routines to try... Not everything ignites however; most of my ideas don't go anywhere. For example, I saw Jim's post yesterday about slang terms and thought of the fun word "delulu," a softer way to say hey you're nuts for thinking that. I decided to write a triolet, but it fizzled. That happens a lot. I don't want to post a meh poem because I did too much of that on my old blog just to participate in prompts. Now, you may believe that all my poetry is meh, and I wouldn't argue! The poems I post on this blog though are ones that please me, which is good enough, but the delulu one wasn't meant to be.

The other day at work, I saw the most beautiful screensaver first thing in the morning (it was probably AI generated) of gorgeous purple flowers in the foreground, stunning greenery, vivid blue water, fluffy clouds, and a whole bunch of pretty trees. I took a photo of it with the idea of painting a triptych, which is a set of three pictures, related to but slightly different from each other. I was very excited to begin this project on the weekend, but it is now the weekend, and my interest has waned. I'm sitting here typing this post at the table where I normally paint, and I feel no desire to get out my painting supplies. I lost my spark.

What has kept my interest lately is exercise! I know, how weird. I had this old Leslie Sansone Walk at Home video that I used periodically, but I was a bit bored with it. On impulse, I ordered her 30 Day Challenge video and did it faithfully through the month of June. I am not here to testify to some miracle now, as I don't think anything really changed. I weigh the same, and I look the same amount of flabby. My clothes don't fit any better, and I still would not be comfortable wearing a swimsuit in public. But I feel really good! I feel so good that I ordered a couple more of her vids during Prime days and 5 more of her videos off eBay! I've been mixing up the routines and doing two per day on days I don't work, one in the morning and one in the late afternoon. I just love it. I love it so much that I go to sleep and wake up planning which ones to do. Here's an even more bizarre thing: I used to do these videos with music only so I didn't have to listen to Leslie's jabbering, but now I like her jabber. I feel inspired by her silly pep talks and giggly banter with Nick Drago, one of the cute walkers she has on a lot of videos. OK, I admit I kind of have a crush on him even though he's in his 40s and was way younger than that on these vids from around 2010-2015. I'm a bit disappointed that he doesn't appear on one of the videos I bought, but it's a women-only one, so OK. 

Idk what happened to Leslie as she suddenly retired from all the things. I hope she's not in ill health or something (she's 65 like me, so not super old but not young either), but I wouldn't pay to subscribe to her channel because neither she nor Nick seem to be performing any longer. Not sure what exactly Nick is up to (can't really find out that much via stalking his Instagram, not that I did, lol), but he appears to be married to this gorgeous blonde named Chelsea, so it's best to just forget about him. Oh, I was going to do that Great Minds Think prompt about being immortalized by transporting myself into a video and making Nick Drago fall in love with me, but that seemed even more ridiculous than saying I would like to be immortalized by all my great writing, so it was a no-go. Lost my Nick Drago fantasy spark, alas.

Anyway. Happy 4th, whether you're sparking or not. Sparking used to mean courting, you know, not in our modern sense of hooking up aka "dating" (barf), but in the sitting on the porch swing with a glass of lemonade within earshot of the parents kind of way. Very sweet and chaste with no ghosting allowed because everyone knew you were there. You could spark more than one person at a time because, after all, it was only lemonade, but even so it all was supposed to lead to marriage and the whole nine yards.

~*~

Written for Linda's Stream of Consciousness Saturday (spark).

Five Prompts Haiku Style (100 words)

Me and my (almond) Snickers

Stuffing or dressing 

Either way bring on the carbs

Oysters optional 

My top ten candy

Cadbury choccy creme egg

Retro Chunky bar

Peanut M and M’s

Original M and M’s

Hot Tamales too

Peanut butter cups 

Coconut Jelly Bellies

And English toffee 

A Snickers of course 

Frango Mints from days of old 

I think that makes ten

Paddled a canoe

In the Dells of Wisconsin 

But it flipped over 

That was lucky though 

Next up was the waterfall 

And we couldn’t steer 

Great piece of advice

Never go out on a boat 

With a stupid jerk

(John Holton’s Writer’s Workshop)

Mythical Creatures

Pegasus, mythical like my soulmate 

I searched for the mythical grail

Every night on the internet 

Joined dating sites to no avail 

I searched for the mythical grail

Never imagined I would fail

Fell hard into depression’s debt

I searched for the mythical grail

Every night on the internet

~*~

Triolet quadrille (structured 44 words) written for dVerse’s Quadrille #250 (myth). I sometimes think about those 5 years I wasted post-divorce looking for my mythical “soulmate” when I could have been doing more reading, writing, or painting.

Inky Pinky Hodgepodge

Inky pinky painting

I'm participating in the Hodgepodge again this week, which is hosted by Joyce. She sure comes up with some great questions!

1. June 17th, 1994 was the day of the infamous O.J. Simpson car chase. What were you doing in 1994? I'm guessing somebody is going to tell me they weren't born yet but that's part of the fun of the Hodgepodge. Lots of generations are represented here. 

In June of 1994, I was a 33 year-old SAHM, so I imagine that I was doing mommyish things and not paying much attention to the news. I vaguely knew this big event was happening, but I had way more important stuff going on, like coloring with my daughters and baking cookies.

2. What's your favorite summer salad that isn't the traditional tossed green lettuce kind of salad? Do you like fresh fruit in a salad (other than in a fruit salad of course)?

I love fruit salad and fruit in any green salad, especially berries and mango. My favorite summer salad is the strawberry poppyseed chicken salad at Panera (check it out).

3. Is chivalry dead? Should it be? 

Chivalry is a double-edged sword, pardon the pun. Obviously the old-timey chivalry with knights and jousts and stuff is dead, except at Medieval Times and Renaissance Fairs, but we now use the term to describe "gentlemanly" type of behavior. While it may seem nice for men to be especially courteous to and protective of women, and also pick up the check, that often comes with a price. I think we all know what that price is. The concept seems pretty dead to me these days, but I have aged out of that world, so I guess I don't really know. Personally, I'm fine with not having those things and not being expected to do anything in return either. As far as holding doors/ elevators, that's just general politeness ~ people do it for each other regardless of gender, which is how it should be.

4. Would you rather spend a week of your summer vacation in Hawaii or Alaska? Have you ever been to either? Are they two places you really would like to see? How do you feel about 'Hawaiian pizza' aka pineapple on a pizza? Have you ever eaten Baked Alaska? 

Neither, as I dislike traveling and being away from home/ kitty. I've been to Hawaii a few times, and it was nice. Friends have taken Alaskan cruises, and the photos look interesting, though cruises appeal to me even less than vacations in general. I'm totally fine with Hawaiian pizza, though I probably wouldn't order it, as I prefer an all-veggie pizza. We had Baked Alaska at my second wedding (1988), which was a terrible idea (not mine). It was dramatic and tasted fine, but I missed having a real cake. 

5. World Cup play is happening now...are you interested? Watching any matches? Did you or your children play soccer/futbol? There are eleven US cities hosting matches--Atlanta, Boston, Dallas, Houston, Kansas City, Los Angeles, Miami, New York with the stadium in NJ, Philadelphia, San Francisco, and Seattle along with  three cities in Mexico (Guadalajara, Mexico City and Monterrey) and two in Canada (Toronto and Vancouver). You get free tickets to one of these matches. Which city do you choose? Tell us why. 

I have zero interest in any sporting events. My daughters did not play soccer. I guess I would take the free tickets to the Los Angeles games and give them away to someone who'd enjoy them.

6. Insert your own random thought here. 

On Saturday, my friend Lisa and I had dates ~ literally. She brought over hot honey sushi (don't judge; it's delicious!) and date rolls with coconut. We watched the first part of the HBO Billy Joel documentary (I already saw the whole thing, but she hadn't), and will watch part two in a few weeks. It's excellent! The reason I resubscribed to HBO is because House of the Dragon is returning for the third season next Sunday, and that's one of the rare shows I enjoy. (See, I can suspend my disbelief for dragons!) It's been a while since I subbed, so I clicked on the cancel button to see what it would entail, and they thought I was cancelling right then, so they offered me half price for three months. LOL! I guess I will have HBO until October now. Any movie recs? Since it's so long between seasons and my brain is stuffed with so much junk, I am rewatching S2 of Dragon this week to prepare.

Yesterday (Sunday), my coworker and I did a "paint your pet" session at Pino's Palette. No, we don't put paint on the pet! We paint from a photo. She did her cute poodle-type doggo, which came out great, and I painted Inky. Because we needed room for her tail, the canvas has an area that needs "more," as you can see in the above image, so I ordered some large black stickers from Amazon to spell out her name on the left side. I'm really pleased with my painting, especially the eyes!

Today (Monday) I took the day off from work and will be driving up to Los Angeles in a few hours to see my granddaughter in her first ballet recital. I'm happy I can do this, as I don't get to see the kiddos all that often. Living an hour's drive away (at the best of times) sounds close, and it's certainly closer than a plane flight, but it's not like I can just pop in whenever. Visits are always planned around work and school.

That was more of a recap than a random thought!

Summer Reading Bingo 1

Reading challenge bingo card 

I've decided to participate in this bingo (25 books) reading challenge via my online book club. It's for June in our club, but I won't be able to finish it this month, so I've given myself the whole summer. I will be reviewing the books for each bingo square, five at a time. Here's the first set (note that I used the first three in another challenge). 

1. Short story or novella. Incantation by Alice Hoffman. This novella was about a family of Jews in Spain around the time of the Inquisition. Absolutely awful, yet fabulous writing. I'm glad it had fewer than 100 pages because idk if I could have read more about this terrible time. I gave it 5 stars, and I think it's important to be reminded about how evil humans are to one another, since we can become numb to the news. I haven't created labels for young adult or magical realism, but I think historical fiction plus fantasy will do for this novella.

2. Set during summer. Love at the Lake by Julie Milo. I gave this book 3 stars for attempting to tackle the weighty subjects of dyslexia and adoption in an otherwise fluffy novel set at a summer camp, but it didn't do either all that well because so much time was devoted to the fluff. I'm not one of those who hates "pure" romance novels (without any mystery or other element), but I need more of a plot than high school angst over whether or not a boy/girl likes the other boy/girl. Note: the characters were 23 years old, but still acted like teens.

3. Road Trip/Vacation. The Date by T.H. Murdock. Super fun suspense story! This one really kept me on my mental toes. Every character became a murder suspect at one point or another during the escape/ vacation to New Zealand, which is a hallmark of a good mystery. Lots of witty dialogue and unpredictable twists abound too. I can’t say that I was rooting for any particular character, as none were very endearing, but overall the book was a treat!

4. Standalone. The House Across the Lake by Riley Sager. I usually like Sager, but THATL is so slow for about half the book. It’s tedious to read about Casey getting drunk every day and obsessing over the other house. I am not a fan of alcoholism being either a character “trait” or a plot device. What did we ever really learn about Casey as a person without the booze? Not a lot. Then finally when the action starts to pick up, the story veers into ridiculousness. The things Casey accomplishes when drunk are completely unbelievable, and the entire plot goes totally into the weeds at the end. Two stars may be too generous, but that's what it got from me.

5. Flowers on the cover. The Mysterious Bakery on Rue de Paris by Evie Woods. This book didn’t seem to know what it wanted to be: romance, ghost story, historical fiction, magical realism? A novel can transcend genres, but this one just seemed confused, and the pieces didn’t mesh well together. That said, I really enjoyed Edith’s character development and the way she blossomed with self confidence and determination to help her new friends. As she came to terms with her grief over her mother’s death, Edith discovered she had a great capacity to love and live again. Also, there were delicious cupcakes involved! Three stars.

Sleepy Hodgepodge

The puzzle I finished tonight (image on box cover)

I'm joining in Joyce's Hodgepodge again this week. It's been a stressful month-end (again) at work, so I am looking forward to better sleep, exercise, healthier eating, etc., now that I can relax a bit. Hopefully, June month-end won't be as nuts, but I am not holding my breath.

1.What's something you find extremely difficult that most people would say is simple?

Lately, sleeping. In the past, dating.

2.  "And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow fast in movies I  had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer." ~F. Scott Fitzgerald

Does the season of summer make you feel this way? Elaborate. 

No. I guess I have never lost the school mindset. To me summer is the break between the end and the beginning, which is September. I think of summer as a lazy lull, not "real life." 

3. Pickles. Love 'em or no thank you? What's your favorite type of pickle? What's something you eat that definitely needs a pickle added?

Uh, I guess I'm "pickle neutral." I don't hate them, but I never think about them either. If I never had another one, I'd be fine. I like them on cheeseburgers, except I never seem to order cheeseburgers these days. Those would be sweet pickles; I don't like the big sour deli ones because heartburn.

4. Tis the season...do you know any June brides? Are there any weddings on your summer calendar? What's your favorite movie wedding? 

I don't think I know any June brides, and there are no weddings coming up on my calendar. My favorite movie wedding is in Mamma Mia (the first one) when Sam proposes to Donna after Sophie decides that she and Sky should wait. Second runner up is Jane and Kevin's wedding in 27 Dresses.

5. June 1st is/was National Say Something Nice Day...say something nice here. 

I had fun today taking a cookie decorating class with my friend Jenny. It's great to be able to spend time with her ~ we have been friends for about 30 years now. Amazing!

6. Insert your own random thought here. 

I finally finished the panda puzzle today. It was the hardest puzzle I've done in a long time, and I'll do an easier one next time. I don't enjoy taking weeks to finish, but of course once I start I have to stay the course. 

I really hope I can get a good night's sleep tonight. I am so tired.

A Coke and Burger Cost You Thirty Cents

Image generated by Meta AI

I'm participating in Jim Adams' Song Lyric Sunday again today, and this week he asks for a song about grass, cows, beef, condiments, fries, or fast food. I figured that a lot of folks would do Jimmy Buffett's "Cheeseburger in Paradise" (which I love), so I wanted something else. I remembered that Johnny Cash mentions a burger in his fun song "On the Night Hank Williams Came to Town," and I am going with it. 

What I really like about this song is how it tells a story. I'm referring to the narrator as "Johnny," and he gives us some background:

Harry Truman was our president
A coke and burger cost you thirty cents
I was still in love with Mavis Brown
On the night Hank Williams came to town

Next we find out that the whole town is going to the Hank Williams' show, and it's a really special night. I Love Lucy debuted on TV, and they all missed it to go to the concert, which makes the date October 15, 1951. Johnny's mom irons his shirt, and his daddy lets him take the truck. I guess mom and dad are not going to see Hank. After picking up Mavis, Johnny hits the county line for one quick round, so that must mean the county Johnny and Mavis live in is "dry" (no alcohol). There isn't a chorus in this song; Johnny simply repeats the line "on the night Hank Williams came to town" at the end of each verse (sometimes he changes a word or two).

On and on he sang into the night

'Jambalaya', 'Cheatin' heart', 'I saw the light'

How'd they get Miss Audrey in that gown

On the night Hank Williams came to town

It's so meta, right? He's talking about songs in his song! (Miss Audrey was Hank Williams' first wife, the mother of Hank Williams Jr., and an accomplished businesswoman.) 

Mavis had her picture made with Hank outside his car

She said he sure is humble for a Grand Old Opry Star

Mavis said why don't we hang around

It ain't often that Hank Williams comes to town

Johnny finishes up by telling us that Mavis "got acquainted" with the Driftin' Cowboys Band, and the effect on all their lives was quite profound. We can read what we want to into those last lines.

To listen to the whole song, go here. 

(Songwriters: Bobby Braddock / Charlie Williams)

Thanks for a great theme, Jim!

X-ed (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Me, around Y2K, with things I've X-ed*

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with X for X-ed.

X is a funny letter in that it marks the spot, checks the box, and can indicate approval or acceptance, but on the other hand X is also used to say an emphatic no, show disapproval, or denote a former status. We X our fingers for luck. X can represent a cross. X-mas for the holiday. It's a positive and a negative. PerpleXing! But that’s English for ya… 

In this post, I'm using X for something I quit doing. Here are some misty memories of things I have X-ed out, whether voluntarily or otherwise. Around age 5, I had piano lessons and a bit later flute lessons, both abandoned for reasons unknown, maybe moving. I had swimming lessons around age 10, then poof. I was on a bowling team for a while and dumped it. In NJ, I joined a chess club, quickly realized I wasn’t good enough, and skedaddled. In high school, I joined and left the Spanish club and the newspaper (I was the movie reviewer, lol). I did stick with my volunteer position at the creative writing magazine senior year, yay.

I started college at the University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana and dropped out after a semester (finished my degree 10 years later at CSUN). I began a public speaking class in Chicago and bailed after two sessions. Kept taking dead-end jobs and dumping them throughout my 20s. Began taking the exams to become a real estate broker and quit when I realized I would have to deal with people constantly. Ish. Same with substitute teaching. I did finally find the perfect job (for me) and am coming up to 25 years, so there's that. 

Tried marriage a couple times and decided, nah, not my thing. Noped out on the whole dating/ romance world altogether. I already mentioned hobbies I gave up ~ crocheting, novel-writing, scrapbooking, painting, baking, etc. Joined and exited plenty of Meetup groups (and now barely look at Meetup at all). X-ed X and Bluesky. Medium. Substack (still there but don't really participate). WordPress of course and all my old blogs. Started and stopped Facebook a few times (am on now mainly because of a book club). Used to belong to a gym; now I don't. Tried a bunch of prescription meds and lifestyle changes to combat migraines, but most had no effect, so they got X-ed. There are probably a zillion more things I started and X-ed out of that I don't even remember.

One thing I am not quitting early is this 2026 A2Z challenge because there are only two letters left to go!

*The things in this photo I have since eXited from are collecting Beanie Babies (or anything), scrapbooking, getting perms, and wearing contact lenses.

Quiche (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

My mom's engagement pic, 1957

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with Q for Quiche.

This post is more about my mother. Unlike me, she liked to try new things, especially foods. Supposedly, one of the reasons my father fell in love with her is because she delighted in all the cuisines available in NYC after 20 years of eating the same old boring small-town Ohio farm food. I forget when she said she moved to New York though ~ somewhere in her early 20s, I guess, when a job opportunity arose. She married my dad in 1957 when she was 26. There was no long, complicated engagement or fancy wedding; they met at work at Nationwide Insurance, dated for two months, and he proposed. My dad's philosophy on dating was very simple: find a pretty girl and ask her to lunch. He didn't understand my problems with dating sites or why my relationships had to contain so much drama. I don't understand it either.

From as far back as I can remember, my mom was jumping into the latest food fad. She made her own bread for a while (delicious) and her own ice cream (meh). Any new kitchen gadget that arrived on the scene found its way into our house. In New Jersey, she created blender desserts made with Jell-O, whipped topping, and canned fruit. Not my favorite. She grew vegetables and made zucchini "boats" ~ huge squash halves stuffed with ground beef, tomato sauce, and cheese. Those were great! Zucchini bread was tasty too. Ceviche. Paella. Granola. Next came the quiches. My dad loved those, so Mom experimented with all sorts of different quiche recipes.

Mom returned to work full-time the year after we moved to Illinois ~ she got a job as a claims adjuster in the same insurance company where my father worked as an underwriting manager. Their jobs were in Chicago though, which was a long commute from our suburb 40 miles away in Cary. Since they got home late, during the week our dinners were often casseroles or crockpot concoctions that she had put together earlier. After a while, I started cooking for us and enjoyed it. For years, I liked to cook until after I became an empty nester. It's no fun cooking for one, not to mention there's just as much prep and cleanup. 

I used to enjoy baking as well, and that lasted until a couple years ago when it seemed as though all my friends were on various diets and not eating eggs or sugar or gluten or whatever. It became too hard to cater to the individual preferences, so I gave up. It made me sad to toss all the leftovers, and I didn't want to eat them all myself either. Occasionally, when I was still dating, some man would bitch about how I didn't cook or bake for him. Why didn't he cook or bake for me? I work full-time too. Eventually, I decided I liked my new lifestyle of Not Cooking, Not Baking, and Not Dating so much that I didn't want to switch back for any reason.

The jury is still out on the Not Writing. (When I say "not writing" I mean novels, not posts or poetry.) I am enjoying this recent burst of blog writing… we’ll see how long it lasts this time!

Pets (April A2Z ~ Misty Memories)

Peppy and me, around 1973

Welcome to my April A2Z posts! This time, I am officially signed up on the challenge sheet and will be visiting other bloggers on the list. My theme is "misty memories," which will include a bunch of rambling about old stuff in my life, and hopefully some of it will be accurate, but if not, there's no one around to contradict me. Today we continue with P for Pets. 

We adopted Peppy at 8 weeks when we moved to our house in Middletown, New Jersey. She was a cockapoo ~ part cocker spaniel and part poodle. Her coloring was salt and pepper… hence her name. Sadly, she was from a “puppy mill,” but at least she was relatively healthy after a few weeks of meds and care. My mom, despite being a farm girl, did not know how to train a dog nor did we get help with that, so as a result Peppy had some behavioral issues. I loved her bunches, of course.

She had such adorable habits, and one of my favorite memories is when I would come home from dining out with a soft mint in my pocket. Peppy loved those! She knew I would always bring one home for her. She slept in my room, but she preferred the cozy armchair to my bed. Peppy absolutely loved spaghetti and meatballs, so we would give her some whenever we had it, she’d dive right in, and then she needed a bath afterwards. 

Peppy was with us until we moved to Chicago, so she would have been about 8 years old. My mom decided that she should be euthanized because she was “old” and badly behaved. I was horrified! Peppy was a family member as far as I was concerned, and I didn’t care about new furniture or spotless carpeting because I was a teenager and going away to college besides. I told them that I would find a new home for Peppy since they were so heartless. That turned out to be a disaster. Peppy did not adapt to the home I had found, and she bit people, so they kept her outside. We had already moved to the city when I discovered this, and my friend went to pick her up. Peppy ended up at the pound, and it broke my heart. I still feel terrible ~ instead of passing peacefully as my mom would have done for her, she was alone and terrified at the end. The fact that I had good intentions means nothing to me.

Years later, I adopted a stray cat that had been hanging around our office building in Burbank, CA. He was a black and silver kitty, and we named him Henry, for John Henry, the racehorse; my boyfriend at the time was super into horse racing. Henry stayed with us for around a year before succumbing to liver cancer. By that time, we had adopted a second kitty, Tasha, a gold Abyssinian. When Henry passed, we adopted Cyndi, a red Aby. We were dumb and had impulsively bought them from a pet store, which isn’t much better than a puppy mill. Tasha was fine, but Cyndi was chronically sick. She never grew to adult size and stayed around five pounds, though she was cute and not too skinny. She could tolerate only (human) baby food lamb and rice, which Tasha had to eat as well. Cyndi lived about three years.

By this time I had divorced, remarried, and had a baby. I adopted Oscar, a sweet orange kitten who had been picked up at the Burbank studios. He grew to be a very hardy and muscular 18 pounds, but always gentle and sweet. Tasha was sweet too, but super hyper and crazy. She wouldn’t stop escaping, which brought in fleas no matter what we did. My daughter was horribly allergic to flea bites, so I gave Tasha and Oscar away. This also broke my heart, but my baby came first.

She grew out of her allergy, my younger daughter didn't have allergies to animals, and 10 years later Cocoa showed up, waltzed in, and decided she would live with us. It turned out that I really needed a kitty to love, so this was just perfect, and we soon adopted another stray and named her Tiki. (It’s nice for kitties to have a feline friend in the house.) They were both darling, and we all loved them a lot. My ex got custody of Tiki, and she ran away from his new place after a while. Cocoa lived another several years until her arthritis became too hard for her to bear and she quit eating. My daughter and I were with her at the end, when she passed peacefully at the vet’s office via euthanasia.

I took another kitty break after Cocoa, especially because my new boyfriend didn’t like pets (red flag!), and after we broke up in the fall of 2011, my daughter and I adopted Gatsby from the Orange County Humane Society. He was my soulmate kitty and graced me with his cuteness for 13.5 years, until his kidneys failed. I loved him so much. I have a zillion memories of all the funny things he used to do. I even have a little "shrine" set up on my bookcase for him, plus his face in a heart charm necklace. OK, I am a bit extra, yes. Even though pets break my heart when they pass, they also bring so much joy and love into my life. A home isn’t complete without a kitty or doggo, in my view.

Now I have Inky, who is a little doll, black with silver sprinkles, emerald eyes, and the sweetest disposition. I totally adore her!

Just One More Thing… (flash fiction)

Someone had been leaving fresh flowers every day on his wife’s grave and Roger was determined to find out who and why.

Soon, people would quit paying attention to Roger and how or if he was mourning Hope, but it had only been a couple weeks since the funeral, so he had to keep up appearances. Roger liked to sleep in and drive over to the cemetery after a leisurely brunch, but today he forced himself to get there at 9am when they opened. It was weird that cemeteries had visiting hours, Roger thought as he strode to the stone. No new flowers yet—good! 

Roger leaned against a tree and opened a dating app as he waited. He couldn’t actually date yet—people would freak out—but he could talk to new women. There were plenty of pretty ones who were happy to get to know a wealthy man who no longer had to work at age 37. One of the prettiest had been eager to chat, and Roger told her all about what a horrible witch Hope had been and how relieved he was to be single again. Ah, here was a new message from her, titled “Good Morgan,” a funny phrase she used. 

Holy crap, what was Frank doing here?! Roger quickly stuffed his phone back in his pocket and walked over to the gravesite where the older man was placing a fresh bouquet. “Lieutenant?”

“Mr. Clark,” Frank stood up and greeted him. “How are you doing?”

“Good!” Roger said, immediately regretting it. “I mean, you know… under the tragic circumstances.”

Frank nodded. “Of course. And it was a tragedy, wasn’t it. You know that Hope was a distant cousin of mine, from the wealthy side of the family, obviously.”

Crap. “No, I didn’t know.”

“I was at the funeral,” Frank said. “In the back. Moving elegy you gave for your young bride, Mr. Clark. Poor thing, being an orphan, and now this. You weren’t even married a year, were you?”

“Not quite a year.”

“And drowning in the bathtub.” Frank shook his head. “Who would have thought?”

“She fell asleep.” Roger felt sweaty even though the air was brisk. He noted that Frank seemed perfectly comfortable in his rumpled old beige raincoat. 

Frank sighed. “So unfortunate no one found her until the next day.”

“Yes, I wish I had woken up to check on her. I will never forgive myself.” Roger began edging away. “Nice seeing you, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, one more thing, Mr. Clark.”

Roger turned around. “What?”

“Good Morgan.”

~*~

Little bit of Columbo fan fiction I wrote for Fandango’s Story Starter #238. 

Sweet Nothings

I baked a hummingbird cake 

But you fluttered off too soon

Zipping out right at daybreak 

I baked a hummingbird cake 

Now I’m left with a heartache 

And neither a fork nor spoon 

I baked a hummingbird cake 

But you fluttered off too soon

~*~

Triolet quadrille (structured 44 words) written for today’s dVerse prompt of bird. Funny how I’m still occasionally inspired by the guy who ghosted me at Thanksgiving (in 2016).

The Invisible Bee

The year I left Chicago (1983) was full of drama. 

In January, I broke up with my boyfriend Charlie. He was a great guy, and I have often regretted not staying with him. But at age 21, I didn’t want to be tied down ~ I had already developed a crush on a new classmate besides. His name was Mark, and he was odd. (I don’t see why I can’t use real first names on a blog barely anyone reads.) I have always been attracted to weird men, the more psycho the better. Why? No idea. Mark and I used to ad lib wacky tales of adventures to amuse the other students. We were in a six month computer programming course for post college age peeps, to turn us into nerds who would make the megabux. LOL

A bunch of us, including Mark, used to get together after class on Fridays to hit the bars around Rush Street. This was a lot of fun, and sometimes we would dance. I usually didn’t eat anything beforehand, so I would get buzzed faster. (I only ever used public transportation in Chi-town, so no worries there.) My crush deepened, and on my birthday (April), Mark took me out for a fun date and kissed me at the end of the night. In May, I heard him say to a mutual friend that while it could be hard to remain friends with someone you’ve dated, it’s even harder to turn a friend into a date.

In June, Mark and I were hanging out at Mike’s place after school and impulsively decided to stay overnight. Mike’s girlfriend lent me a cute yellow outfit, and we hit the bars. At one point we stopped for gyros. Around 1am, the bar we were in said it was last call and played Lionel Ritchie’s “You Are the Sun.” Mike told us to dance, so we did. Slow danced. Mark kissed me again. I fell in love… or what I thought was love back then. We slept cuddled up together on the floor at Mike’s.

Mark and I began dating, and even though I knew we weren’t exclusive, I had a great time. I also knew that I wasn’t his physical type ~ he was on the shorter side and preferred very petite girls. Regardless, I believed he truly liked me because our personalities meshed well. He would come over to go swimming; I sometimes made dinner. Once I threw a party for all the peeps, and my dad developed a little crush on Mike’s girlfriend, who was an advocate for prison reform or something. Mark was impressed that I was one of the few people who got a job right after “graduation,” but it was only clerical ~ I mostly reformatted floppy disks all day.

On a Sunday in July, I walked to the drugstore to buy a notebook. I did that a lot, believing that starting a fresh pile of pages was the key to everything. I still tend to believe this, though nowadays I use a Word document. My mom had made dinner ~ meatloaf, potatoes, and veggies ~ nothing unusual, and while I was eating, my hand began to feel itchy. Soon it turned purplish. Then my throat felt itchy. I struggled to breathe properly and went to lie down. My mom called the paramedics who took me to the hospital. Naturally, they all thought I was on drugs. The ER doctor said I was going into anaphylactic shock, treated me for that, and by process of elimination he decided I had been stung by a bee. Since the treatment worked, this seemed reasonable, but I had not seen a bee that day nor felt a sting. There was no mark on my hand from a stinger either. I guess it must have been one of those silent invisible bees with ouchless stings. 

In August, Mark asked me to go camping in Canada for a week, but I told him I didn’t have any vacation days yet. He took another girl. My father found a new job in California, where he and my mom had been wanting to move to for some time. They assumed I would go with them, but I liked my new job (floppy disks!) and also the idea of getting an apartment with my friend Kathy. Around this time, I bumped into a former coworker who had assaulted me on a date a couple years before, and we both said hello and pretended that nothing had happened. Afterwards, I wished I had said something clever and cutting. Kathy told me she couldn’t get an apartment together after all because she’d used all her money to buy a car. 

So, I decided to move to California.

~*~

Inspired by John Holton’s Writer’s Workshop.

Flashback Friday: Second Choices

I’m participating in Fandango’s Flashback Friday today with a post I originally wrote on February 20, 2025. My darling kitty Gatsby passed over the rainbow bridge in May, and I now have sweet little Inky in my life. I no longer watch any Bachelor shows and don’t subscribe to Hulu. I still have not lost the pesky five pounds and still don’t care enough to make much effort. I usually have one large cup of coffee each morning now, which doesn’t seem to make any difference in my sleep or digestion. 

Second Choices and Pointless Meanderings

I changed my mind and resubscribed to Hulu, primarily because my friend C told me that they chose Pascal to be the next Golden Bachelor, and he's adorable and hilarious. The other reason is because I don't much care for the Amazon Prime offerings these days (except for the Mamma Mia movies I purchased and rewatch often sans ads), so I've been watching a ton of Netflix. It'll be nice to have another option. In May, my Hulu deal will end and the price will jump to $9.99/month, so we'll see how I feel about it post-Pascal. I console myself regarding the expenditure by saying that I don't go out to movies much, nor do I even go out to eat the way I used to. It's expensive, and restaurant food is too salty and high in calories/fat. My favorite place to be is home with my kitty Gatsby anyway, and since I don't know how much time he has left, I want to be with him as much as possible. I guess that's true for every loved one, but since he got diagnosed with KD3, I am more aware of the clock ticking.

I was reading about this other reality dating show where they said a woman noped being the second choice after the guy's first choice bailed. I get that. Looking back, I think I was second choice in all of my serious relationships, except maybe one. It's a really crappy feeling; mostly I tried not to think about it, but there were times it was unavoidable. After my divorce, I too noped out of being second. If a guy was hung up on someone else, moaned endlessly about his ex, kept boxes of her photos, forget it. For once in my life, I wanted to feel 100% wanted, and that never happened. Ultimately, I guess my desire for a relationship wasn't that strong post-divorce because being second choice was only one of a zillion red flags. No biggie. Just meandering. It's so nice to make my own plans and keep my own schedule that I can't possibly even imagine sharing that with another person now. I think it would drive me nuts to have to care what someone else wanted for dinner every night. Most nights, I barely eat dinner, and I like it that way. Lunch is king!

I've gained about 5 pounds during the last few years, and I am not happy with the way my body looks, but mostly I don't care. My clothing is flattering, and no one is going to see me without it. I'm not a fan of swimsuits either, though I recently bought a few new ones "just in case." I'd rather just wear shorts and a tee shirt, since I never actually like to go in the water except for my feet. Sometimes I decide I am going to try to lose the 5 pounds; other times I just shrug. I feel like the weight loss will happen though and fairly soon. Why? I don't know. It's just one of those OCD number things that will make me happy. I've given up coffee again, and that seems to be helpful. I sleep better, which is good for overall health and weight control specifically (when you're tired during the day, your brain demands sugar), and my tummy isn't so sour all the time.

I watched Anatomy of a Scandal on Netflix last weekend. It was really good! I enjoyed the acting and the twists and turns of the story. Highly recommend this six-part show.

I slogged through The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami for my 2025 Reading Challenge category of a 600+ page book. Since I've loved almost everything else I've read by him, it was shocking to be so disappointed. This book was a disjointed mess of random characters flitting in and out to tell long, ridiculous backstories as the main character drifted through his own life. He'd lost his job, his wife left him, and his cat ran away. It was like a country song but in Japanese, and I had a hard time caring about him when he was so apathetic and passive. Overall, the book was a giant snooze interspersed with gory war stories and magical realism. Two stars.

So, that book took me over a week to read, not only because it was so long, but also I disliked it yet felt compelled to finish and check it off my list. Next, I will be reading some light, fluffy fun fiction and of course more psychological thrillers, which is becoming my go-to genre over romance. I still love romance novels! But only Regency Romance or anything set before 1900, like the Victoria Holt books. Contemporary romances suck (as I have described previously).

Post Valentines Blues

It’s official: I’m tired of romance. I don’t even have any romance novels in my house ~ I donated them all to the library. Even the Regency novels are leaving me cold because I really resent those hunky titled men who do absolutely nothing all day. Contemporary, in theory, should appeal to me, especially since I love the classic romcoms such as You’ve Got Mail, which I watched yesterday while doing a puzzle. It made me cry like it always does. Such good writing. Great dialogue and chemistry between the leads. A solid plot. Newer novels however have such stupid protagonists, not to mention plots that are way too absurd to take seriously even in fiction. There are exceptions, such as The Hating Game, but they’re too hard to find in the sea of dreck. 

Kinda like dating itself!

My online book club gravitates toward thrillers, and I have been reading a lot of those over the past year or so, but I am getting bored with them as well. I also have a separate list of restrictions for thrillers just as I do for romances: no child abuse, no animal cruelty, nothing about eyeballs, no teenaged protagonists, no first person alternating POVs, no stupid main character who deliberately flings herself into danger, etc.

This is not an exhaustive list.

Right now I’m reading The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill by Mark Bittner. It’s nonfiction and interesting. I do have to take breaks when I get annoyed with Mark for being an unemployed bum and remind myself that it’s okay and I am not dating him. In a romance novel, Mark would have been an introspective earl who could study birds all day and still be obscenely wealthy with a vast estate, but at least in this book the MC’s lack of a job actually means he goes hungry for a while. I have also started My Octopus Teacher on Netflix, which I am enjoying as well, but where is the documentary of an irresponsible man who won’t work, befriends animals, and dies impoverished and alone?

This morning I am going to breakfast with a friend and looking forward to catching up (and getting some avo toast). After that, I may paint again because my self-esteem is a bit too high, and it will be fun to fail at creating the masterpiece I have in my mind and end up with a hopeless mess. That way, I can remember how I didn’t pursue a lucrative career because I wanted to put energy into creative endeavors… and how that didn’t pay off. At all.

Besides that, I have loads of anxiety lately about all the things that have happened plus the ones that haven’t but might. Good times.

No advice needed. Commiseration encouraged.