[We interrupt your irregularly scheduled nonsense with some regularly scheduled nonsense, hoping that small subjects, do some, you know, good. The very current state of the Maaam is very depressed, which only means danger for peanut M&Ms. No need for worry. I have plenty on hand. M&Ms, I mean, not worry.]
Another birthday reminds me to pause, freak out, and plan for the next year.
It has been quite a year here in Maaaam Laaaand.
This year, I struck out on my own, quit my job, wrote another book, lost 19 pounds, and found a new church. They stopped holding services once I got there, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because I showed up. Something, something, virus.
I began the process of falling in love with a new town. It’s hard work, but I suspect Towson is worth it. It’s old, like lots of interesting things, and it’s haphazard, like somebody poured a city on top of a suburb, stirred, and then gave up. It also reminds me of the best attributes of my native state. “More azaleas than xenophobes,” isn’t an official slogan, but it could be!
Nobody tosses their life up in the air because things are going smoothly, and really, don’t be like me–if you can improve your life in place, definitely give it a whirl. Then again if you are in a persistent state of misery, it may be time to make more than subtle adjustments. Maybe get bolder and face your garbage and analyse your choices.
When I look at the pattern of my choices, it’s pretty obvious that the main thing I wanted to create on this Earth is people–not just any people, but really excellent, loving people. Mission accomplished, if I do say so myself.
Beyond that, I want to create a haven for these people and others who might need it from time to time. I want to inspire more people to get their parenting in line with their best goals. Hence, my new book.
I have recurrent dreams of running away to Scandinavia, and not just for the furniture. In my dystopian vision, I wash up in a canoe (a tasteful canoe) and produce my DNA results (that nobody asked for) to show I am suspiciously Danish-Greek. Some Vikings are thrilled to have me anyway, and allow me to build a retreat on a fjord, even though I refuse to speak anything other than English.
This is probably not the way it is going to go, and that’s okay.
I may build my retreat here in Towson and it just might include some Greek and Danish flourishes to appease my imaginary ancestors. Opa! Skål! Excuse me!
In addition to having Medditernavian confusion, and terrible food, we will help moms, because that is the easiest way to make a better future for future people.
If you would like to help, let me know. What have you got for moms? I don’t want your old shoes, I mean, what do you know? What is your expertise that would benefit moms? You know you know something!!
Don’t let the bastards get you down!! Get on top of the bastards with love!!