When I was a teenager, I used to keep a list of the wise things my mother said. I called them her “rules for life,” and I had no doubt that one or the other of us would eventually use them as the starting point for a book. I meant to keep adding to them as the years went by, but I’m notoriously bad about writing myself notes and then forgetting where I’ve stashed them or–even worse–not writing them in the Continue reading “Lessons learned”
When I was ten, I got my first diary as a Christmas present. It had a lock, but it was no problem to open the journal without the key. Turns out this was good, because soon enough the key had vanished, probably stolen by my brother or swallowed by the dog. I kept writing in the little purple diary for months, regardless. Continue reading “Why I wrote, and why I write.”
Your 16th birthday was almost a week ago, and I’m still trying to recuperate from the cheesecake. I was hoping you’d go for the vanilla Wal-Mart cupcakes with the ridiculously sweet icing like last year; but alas, this time around, you didn’t hesitate to tell me exactly what you wanted or to express an opinion that was entirely different from my own. You aren’t a cake kid, and Continue reading “Dear Step-Daughter…”
It’s grocery day, it’s trash day, it’s get a different old graphics card from my brother and see if Roxanne finds that one sufficient to run my old ass Sims 2 game day. I’m excited about the last one because sometimes I can be a wee bit obsessive about getting things to work like they should, and this game has not worked correctly since I brought my new computer home. I keep getting my hopes up, but then–inevitably–I’m disappointed yet again. At this point, I can play as much as I want with pre-made sims on lots that are already built. I can even rebuild the lot completely (with a shit-ton of custom content) so long as I do it without bulldozing it. BUT. I can’t import sims or lots, nor can I create them from inside the game.
I’m just Type A / OCD enough that the just-on-the-edge-of-working thing has been making my skin crawl for the last two weeks. My frustration is only exacerbated by the fact that I can’t have a cigarette.
Something’s gotta give. Hopefully, I’ll have a permanent fix by the end of the day (with the new/old video card), and I can get down to the relaxing and time-consuming business of redecorating a neighborhood full of houses for the tenth time in less than a week.
If it works, I’m afraid I might have to limit myself to writing one entry a week for a while as I obsess over my new toy.
It’s the middle of the afternoon, and I’m exhausted. I’ve been up since way-too-early, and I’ve worked my ass off today.
Although I’ve never been a nap person, days like this make me envy the teenagers in the house who seem to be able to sleep at all hours of the day and night with no thought as to whether they’re snoozing away the best years of their lives. Continue reading “Exhausted, bleach-flavored instruction”
I haven’t had a new computer in years. I bought the last one around 2009; it was an open box special, heavily discounted from Best Buy. I remember being ecstatic when I brought it home. It had a brand name. It had stuff pre-installed that I could gleefully mess around with for a while and then gripe about later (“Seriously, you wouldn’t believe the amount of bloatware on that thing!”). But it was a hassle Continue reading “Roxanne”
If you were here right now, I’d be happy to share my afternoon coffee and Sixlets with you. Maybe you’d have something interesting to tell me, something that might keep me awake through what have suddenly and inexplicably become the long and lulling hours of late afternoon during which I have to perpetually do things to keep myself conscious. I keep wondering if I have thyroid issues. Or maybe I need to smoke more Continue reading “Coffee and Sixlets”