February 2012
2 posts
One of the most difficult things about seeing my family so rarely is that when I do see them it’s all rapid-fire-make-the-most-of-it. I miss the quiet moments where everything is simple and natural and you can simply coexist. Being in one room, knowing they’re right down the hall.
Then there are the pangs of guilt that, like a few glasses of wine, bring forth a veritable thunderstorm...
I don't really want to talk about We Need to Talk...
… but I feel I must, albeit briefly. Whenever I’m excited about and subsequently disappointed by a film there’s a bitterness that doesn’t fade unless I go on a bit of a tirade. I’ve already complained to my husband on several occasions, but it always helps when I document my ravings in a more permanent method.
Ultimately what it comes down to is: I don’t give...