
They’re all about Like and Share too. Fuck that noise!
I get it though. Rilly. For the vast majority of us, life’s just 599 kinds of complex and about to get even more so now that the Cheeto Brain Fart’s gonna be Prez and, OOPSIE, destroy the world. (yes, yez…hyperbole, it’s what’s for motherfucking breakfast). It’s nice, sort of, to imagine that our little universes used to be so much simpler and sublime. *snort*

Blondie’s One Way or Another or Heart of Glass would come on the radio and I’d instantly transport to the painting or ceramic’s studios from college days. Kevin and I’d be dancing and singing (off key 'natch) – getting all silly. The Hipster Police, (the profs who MUCH preferred the very serious painter boys with their cloaks of world weary, downtown-don’t-give-a-fuck), would always come in to bust us though. We were just too damn happy and uncool to be making that much noise. Assholes.


I’m no good at nostalgia. I keep snapping back to RealityVille. Context – I’m doomed to see all life within context.
My older sister remarked once that I only remember the bad things about our childhood (we’re just two years apart and, until adolescence, were pretty much inseparable) while she recalls only the good parts. Possibly there was too much of each for either one of us to carry alone? There were some good times!
Right now, I’m trying to keep the fabulous, wonderful memories from my 30 years (!!!) with The MOST Amazing Bob in mind. The harder MGH images keep fighting their way up to the top of the pile. I much prefer having our sunny times in that easily accessible prime spot. Ya know, fer instance, that hilarious, fun, tremendous wedding of ours.
By the by (and EVEN related!) I found a great (short too so click ovah!) post by Michelle Parrinello-Cason of Balancing Jane. Yes, a new semi-escapist blog to follow.
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