I didn’t hit rock bottom either; the closest I got was missing a work meeting because I was too fucking sick at 5 PM the day after my last drink(s) to get there, but that was close enough. If you’re quitting, strength to you.

I hope he does too!

This has made me think. I don’t like the idea of defining oneself by the name of one’s disease; I wouldn’t refer to myself as “a depressive” or my late aunt as “a schizophrenic.” But maybe that is my internal stigma talking, and maybe it’s harder to overcome because I grew up in the home of an alcoholic relative and…

My son died by suicide and I don’t think his cause of death was in the obit. We were too fucking blindsided to fucking think of it. His dad wrote something up and I checked it for typos, that’s all I remember. I don’t know if I would have requested that it be there tbh because I had just gone from not knowing anyone…

After 5 years of not drinking I am mostly over being embarrassed about it but yeah, that would be great.

Map of my next Tour de France.

OH GOD NO

I only remember two open caskets, my grandparents’, a few years apart in the ‘70s when I was a teenager. My mom died in ‘80 and I don’t think any of us in the family had even thought of cremation at that point, but she did not want an open casket; she attended her funeral in a closed blue satin box. By the next…

That vest, though. Or shirt, or whatever it is. I lived through the 70s, and later I lived in the Midwest for 11 years, and I never saw anything quite like . . . that.

This song is ALWAYS my first thought when I see or hear the word “hustle,” because I am old like that. I kind of want to learn these moves now.

Starred for Slingblade voice. I can just hear it. awesome dad.

Then there’s this disarmingly catchy tune

Oh, and my mom got divorced and took her name back before I was born and passed it along to me, so I had that precedent, even if it seemed kind of weird in the 1960s. I only wish her mother had kept her name, because it was an abstract noun that represents something awesome (oh, hell, nobody who knows this fact about…

We flipped a coin for the first kid. He won. So the second kid got my name. #1 was a boy and #2 was a girl, so when #3 came along we decided that it would be surnamed according to its gender (his if a boy, mine if a girl). He won that one, too. Then he got a vasectomy, because by that point we had run out of first…

I had a close friend in high school (mid-70s) who was gay, and thus I became a vehement ally and set out to educate myself by reading every relevant thing I could get my hands on in the public library and later in the library at my college, because that is what one did to learn things back then. So I have known about…

Rhea Perlman! June Squibb!

Everything in moderation!

Yes! I love to see kids playing together nicely. Partly because there was so damn much of the opposite when mine were growing up.

Oh. My. God. I want to go back in time and slap that idiot.

Summer in the PNW is the best! Long daylight hours, sunshine, and delicious berries! The trend toward higher summer temps is a bit worrisome, though...