Vegas in July 2009 with my dad Where do I start? I started this post weeks (months?) ago, when my brother sent me a text in the middle of the night, when sane people are sleeping , to ask about a book that I had passed on to him during my occult phase. Using my amazing Google-fu, was finally able to track down the series that he wanted, but that started me down a whole 'nother rabbit hole of nostalgia that I, in typical fashion, tucked away to be dealt with later when I had some privacy for a proper meltdown. Two months later, I still haven't had the meltdown, but it's kind of being forced on me. I don't do grief because I hate crying in public and my life these days is such that I only get privacy in the bathroom, and frankly, I don't want to reminisce and have a proper crying jag while staring at (or sitting on) the porcelain god ... so it just gets buried a little more. Until I get another request from my brother to commemorate the anniversary and what wan...
That's not a typo.