When I was Tough, Part 18

I watched the first five seasons of Vampire Diaries over the course of a week.  Something like 120 hours of bad special effects, betrayal, and outstanding hair.  During this time, I neither shaved nor bathed.  My apartment acquired a certain foetor unique to hoarders, cat ladies, and the heavily medicated.  Stale soup.  Ritz crackers and… Continue reading When I was Tough, Part 18

Where is my mind?

For the last 27 years, I’ve kept a diary in which I’ve made entries three to five times a week in a ritualistic obsession to document my life.  To be honest, I’ve also kept the diary to have someone to whom I can talk.  No one but a blank page would ever care to listen… Continue reading Where is my mind?