Author of the novel WHEN YOU LOSE CONTROL

I marvel at you, mother, for the copious naps you took. Your refusal to hug or play, or even share a book. I marvel at the table; covered, covered in drugs- you loved them while I got apathy, ignored, yelled at, cold shrugs. I marvel at the gaslighting  and being told I was dramatic. Wouldn't it have been nice, to be loved? Even just a little love, not anything emphatic! I marvel at the evil and the ugliness you spew. The ghastly, the deathly white, the cruelty in everything you do. I marvel at the idiocy, your attempt at scapegoat child. Your pathetic cry of victim, reality not something you've reconciled.  Still, I marvel at my strength,  that in spite of you I thrive. That I am full and wonderous and despite you, I survive! 

Gross indifference  Makes a difference  In all the wrong ways 

Will it be a good  night of history, awards? The ninety-fourth year.

It's been more than a Month now. Modern war horrors. I can't see an end.

Perhaps it is time to write the next one, as they say in the movie Tick Tick Boom.  Perhaps I am starting. 

I wasn't overly sensitive. I didn't deserve to be gaslit or told I was a bitch.  I was never dramatic or fidgety. I was a CHILD.  I deserved adults who gave a shit, or hugs, or support, of god forbid, some goddamn encouragement and love! I will never forgive you for never being able to give any of those things. However, I am at peace with it, because I fucking love me and think I'm awesome and you are the one(s) missing out.  I am the one who overcame, rose from the ashes, rose from unbearable depression and was reborn with all my diagnoses - vindicated and free and better than ever. It was, and is, ADHD and GAD and SPD and hyperlexia and social anxiety and autism spectrum disorder and my being neurodivetgent. I feel sad for you. I feel ecstatic for me.

At a bake sale, we raised $550 for Ukraine. All the money will go to buying a backpack filled with medical supplies, and the leftover money will be donated, all of which benefits Sundlowers of Peace.  💙Ukraine Forever💛

Put on the TV Watch humanitarian  horrors in real time 

How can you just sit As this conflict rages on We've done more for less

Crying for Ukraine Watching the war on TV Feeling so helpless 

I wore my Ruth Bader Ginsburg socks yesterday, and by  a coincidence that my heart soar, the kid I nanny for walked up to me with I Dissent: Ruth Bader Ginsburg Makes Her Mark and asked me to read it. More than happily, I obliged.  We sat on the couch, and I read the whole thing to him, kind of a feat because he's only three and would usually rather be running, jumping, or pretending to be Michaelangelo. As I read, I kept pausing to make sure he understood how important RBG was and is still to this day. More than once, I interrupted with, "she's my hero!" while we read the remarkable story. When I finished the book, I closed it, then laid my right wrist on top of it, and pointed to the dissent collar on the book's cover and how it matched the tattoo on my arm. He had seen the tattoo plenty of times before, but I wanted him to know the why of it. Satisfied I had done my job, I watched as he ran off to play. Later, after his sister came home from school, he grabbed ...

Waiting to see a Response that is worth a damn Commiserating 

Inhumanity  Sad, shocking, and disgusting  Cruel crimes of war

Last night I saw Frankie Valli in Boston. Though he'll be 88 in May, you'd never know it. He sounded great and was full of life and enegery. He was fabulous. As always, I was born in the wrong decade. 

"Literacy is a bridge from misery to hope." -Kofi Annan

Blue and yellow flag Inspiring, brave, resist We stand with Ukraine