I have no witty quotes, just the hiccups.

And the joy that comes from knowing I can still "key" while drunk.

I miss being anonymous. Facebook scares me. If I was clever I would only write with a view to the audience, but for someone with a stifled daily voice, this is hard. So I return. To Mission:Absolution. Clearly my mission hasn't been absolved. But someone else as witty and moreso intelligent than me has absolved their own, so I'm stuck.

Here I am.

I was right about Tori. Her album comes out in May. And Tate comes very, very soon, but not without a "Momma" to fetch her. Of course the girls will turn 5. That is beyond my control. But at least I got a phonecall. Lily managed, amongst her incessant giggling, to tell me she loves me 250. Don't you LOVE small children's grasp on numbers. They got no concept of the economy.

Me? Yep. doing that reading. And that (***)forsaken research. If intuition meant ANYTHING, I'd have a degree already!!

I found lotsa people on Fac&book and (Egads) they found me. But nothing compares to shooting the shit with myself. It's healthy.

And having said that - Rony- so is cake decorating.

Still queen of irony.

And BACK. Watch This Space.