Bibliomama

 So I'm reading a book (shocker, I know) I've been thinking lately about my brain. About how I'm weird now, but I was SO weird when I was younger, and about how even if things were like now and there were diagnoses available, would I have gotten one? I feel like I had features of Borderline Personality Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, even a few of Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, although only a few and very much not the main ones. And would it have made things any easier?  (This book - it's a book about parenting, sort of.) I have chronically low self esteem. I don't know why. My parents weren't mean. I was bullied in a sort of desultory manner by a few people in elementary school, but not for anything that would cause low self-esteem, probably more because I already had it (I know, I know, it's not my fault, but I can see that I put off vibes that were like blood in the water to anyone with the mildest bullying streak). I seem to have just

 Matt and I went on a date and did shots! No, wait.  Matt and I went on a date and got shots! The day of my last shot, I sat around nervously all day terrified I would miss my time slot and left an hour early. The days I was driving my parents for their shots, same. Yesterday I ran around with Eve all day trying to find some decent black shoes for her abbreviated graduation ceremony tomorrow evening because we realized she only ever wears boots or flip-flops (my kid, obviously) and other than some super-fancy shoes for prom, she had nothing. We could maybe be forgiven this lapse if this was the first time this had happened, but, um, it's not. So we went to a few stores without any luck, until we realized she didn't really know what she wanted, she just felt like maybe wearing her Docs for grad wasn't completely appropriate. To which I said, hogwash (I did, I used a quaint and un-profane epithet, you weren't there, you can't prove otherwise). I wore Docs for my weddi

 I'm so glad I decided to post every Monday during the pandemic, while keeping track of how many weeks in we are and telling you all what I'm reading every week. It's really helped keep me on track. OH WAIT, ha ha, that wasn't me, that was Nicole (HI NICOLE). I, on the other hand, have maintained my usual scattershot approach, which means every now and then I look up and two weeks have gone by, and I still don't know what the hell to blog about. Oh well, being a hot mess is kind of my brand, it's a little late in the game to try to change it up. Let's see, what's going on with me? Same shit, different day. Since Friday we can get together outside in groups of ten again. So Friday evening we got together in a group of ten, obviously. I kept looking around and giggling and saying "guys? I DON'T LIVE HERE."  My allergies are still pretty bad although slightly improved. My neighbour is having the same issue and we sit outside and drink margari

 When Nicole (HI NICOLE) mentioned that her blog host was dumping smaller blogs and she had to find a new one, it reminded me of that time a few years ago when my blog got hacked and every time anyone entered the URL it sent them to some Russian art selling website. I had given passing thought to figuring out how to save blog posts before that - I knew that even though it seems like anything you put on the internet can be permanent when it might destroy your life, if it's something you actually want to have access to forever you can't necessarily count on it always being there. Anyway, it was a horrible feeling not being able to get to my blog. I went to the Blogger help forums and actually figured out how to find the bad code and erase it - I still can't actually believe it worked. Thank goodness it happened before perimenopause, because if the same thing happened now I think I'd just cry for a week and let it all go. Wait, no, I'd cry for a week, make my husband