As one grows to understand life less and less, one learns to live it more and more. And my lucky numbers are 12, 34, and 21. Gotta love a good fortune cookie. Very profound, and I do think many Boomlennials live their life that way. (Especially the gamblers, wink). Once you realize that life is kind of a sh*t show, there’s not much you can do but punt. The month of November gets me pondering thanksgivings, and I have lots. Right now I’m just happy to be inside on a cold, snowy day without anything urgent that I have to glam up for, so I just cover up all my mirrors with newspaper. Quite scary. I’m very grateful that all my phone calls are texts. I like the monologue much better than the dialogue. My dearests are, of course, hallelujah, and know how to jello through unthinkable situations. Get it? Wobbly, yet firm. My wee dearests have one job in life, and that is to be wee dearests. And they do it amazingly well! I’m thankful that my Manfriend is ok with being called my manfriend. And ok with all (most) of the weirdness I bring into his life. My creature, hmmm. You don’t realize how many things are edible until you leave a lab alone in the house all day. I wish he would learn to eat the whole pair of shoes. One stragler never does me much good. Grandma Camp has now become legend. Somehow a name for a couple days of babysitting is a Big Thing. Will have to step up my game next time, though, because I won’t be able to just do the same arts and craps again. My football team won a game, my health and wellness has become a way, not a place, and even though I’m fat I identify as skinny. I’m trans-slender. And since my Boomlennial website is throwing me around I better end before I lose the wonderful persona I have created. I have a good heart, but this mouth….