Kinder, Gentler

The scene at my home a couple of nights ago:

Glenn Miller and orchestra play classic Christmas songs on the stereo. My husband strings some multicolored lights around the perimeter of our front two windows. Chloe, our golden lab/retriever mix, runs around with a cheerful tongue hanging out of her mouth.

I stand in the kitchen making brownies, which 1) do not have pot in them, and 2) I plan to give to our neighbors. I'm practicing the ancient ritual of never returning a plate to a neighbor without something on it. The plate is decorated with Frosties and snowflakes.

Whose life is this?

(My cat Sybil, however, continues to stare up at me with huge, hostile, and startled eyes. Some things are constant.)

Happy holidays to all of you, and thank you for reading.

Lauren



This is not my home in Old Orchard, Toledo, but it looks like it.
Old Orchard is full of narrow streets, old-fashioned houses, and many trees. And it's across the street from the university.




The Wanamaker (now Lord & Taylor) light show in downtown Philadelphia. I'm feeling sentimental today, apparently.

Acronym game

ENNUI:

Every time I hope to write something

New, I

Notice that I get stuck in an

Unending loop of

Introspection.


Enough is enough, already. I

Need to turn outwards instead of inwards, or at least find a

Novel way to

Unite the two, thereby creating a more

Interchangeable I.


Expression should

Not be so circular,

Nor so insular. Let me look

Under a different rock or use it like a doorjamb to block further self-

Iteration.

Revisiting Prohibition: Rant

I'm sick of feeling like I'm disabled because I'm an alcoholic.

I'm sick of having to vet every situation before I enter it.

I'm sick of seeing that look of either pity or guilt on people's faces when I tell them about "my problem."

I'm sick of thinking about it all the time.

And I'm sick of not doing what I want to do.

(No relapse afoot here. Just needed to vent.)