I have been putting off all sorts of things waiting for my car to arrive on Monday. I need to go to the washateria in the worst way, because I have lots of blankets that need to be washed in an industrial sized washer. I could use an Uber, I suppose- and that’s what I would have done if I’d come back to Maryland carless. But now it just seems easier to wait for my own ride.

I need to clean out my refrigerator because something died while I was gone. I think it’s fried rice. No matter what it used to be, it needs to be trash.

I need more light in this apartment and have been putting off buying more lamps because I don’t want to stay here. The likelihood of all the new lamps going in the new space is nil.

I have an appointment to meet with a woman about a house later in the week. It’s a start. Right now my apartment is kind of out of the way, and I’d like to be closer to downtown, Fell’s Point, Patterson Park, etc. Right now it takes me about 20 minutes to get to the Inner Harbor, and a lot longer with traffic. I’d like to be in a more central location.

Getting out and exploring today is probably not in the cards, because it’s chilly and rainy. This afternoon could be a possibility because the weather is supposed to clear up as it gets later, but I have things to do around my house first. I don’t need a car to clean out my refrigerator.

I’m a bit emotional that I haven’t gotten it yet considering my original idea was to drive it up here- meaning I would have had it the day I arrived. The best laid plans…. It’s just a shame that none of my friends could come with me and even though I was prepared just to listen to podcasts the whole way, everyone around me said that it was better to ship the car and let it go.

Since I’ve been back, I’ve procrastinated all the physical things I have to do for writing. I know I’m not going to be available later in the month, so I’ve posted extra entries. People rarely go back and read, but it makes me feel better when I have to take off a few days to move that there are entries banked. Sometimes it’s interesting to take a few days off and see where my stats go.

Just not today. 😉

I am slowly getting back into the swing of Maryland life after having had my family around me for so long. It’s different here, because I spend so much time alone. I think that will change as I branch out and meet people, but right now I live a very solitary existence.

It’s not that I don’t have friends. It’s that none of my friends live in Baltimore. We chat on Facebook Messenger because it’s free, and by that I mean on audio and video as well as chat. But having so many friends across the country has to be in addition to friends here, because I had to go all the way to Texas to find a mechanic friend who would check out a cars with me. I did not feel safe buying a car without someone to look at it that knew what to look for… The tricks of the trade that would make a car look safe for the length of time it took me to buy it….

Aaron crawled under all the cars I looked at and examined everything close up. The only other serious contender was a Toyota Corolla, but it was an automatic transmission. The Corolla I’d had before had been a manual, and it was a blast to drive. So, the Corolla was okay. But Aaron and I decided to keep shopping and ran across the Ford Fusion as we were driving toward Austin.

I want to find a friend that will crawl under cars with me in Baltimore. I’m sure I’ll find a place to plug in, and having a car will allow me to look for it more effectively.

My dad is big on service organizations, so perhaps I’ll try one of those. Surely there are Baltimore City child advocacy groups, or a Baltimore City Exchange Club. It’s hard to be in a new city and come up with ways to make friends as an adult, but committing to acts of service and making friends through a shared activity feels like solid advice.

I feel like an alien most days, because I don’t get the sense that people know what to do with me. I don’t fit into a tidy box and I’m definite in my opinions. I appear older and childlike at the same time. It is a conundrum, because those paradoxes make communication more difficult. Therefore, I am reticent to reach out and suffering from a different kind of loneliness… I don’t want for friends or love. I want for face time.

That’s why I’m so glad Tiina invited me out to her farm in Stafford on the 19th. It will be a short road trip (about two hours), and then I’ll get to see all the beauty she’s worked into her farm. It’s something to look forward to, because Tiina makes me laugh. I’ve been through a lot of grief lately, so laughing sounds like a good idea.

I know that Evan is going to come and visit soon, but that may have to wait until after I move. Things are getting tight in terms of time, because I have to be out of my apartment by November 10th, or some odd day like that. I need to look it up again, but it is not the traditional beginning of the month. Again, something to look forward to in the future, and I’d like a lot more of that, too.

I don’t know what to look forward to in my future except the friends that are reaching out to me to say “join us.” I have been putting off being the type of person that would say, “join me.”

Mostly because I felt like I didn’t have anything to offer. The noise in my head was too loud, and I needed to sit alone and write it out. Now, things are looking up and I don’t need to be so insular. I foresee changes coming, just not how they will present.

And in fact, I don’t even know what would help in terms of transition. The only thing I know is that I will feel better once my car gets here, because what public transit and Uber cannot do is get you where you want to go if you don’t know where you’re going. In a car, you are allowed to meander.

I am not organized to see this move through without being able to call an audible. Something will go wrong and I will need to change course quickly. For instance, I still haven’t made up my mind as to where I want to live. Do I want to stay in Baltimore, or do I want to move back towards DC, staying on the Maryland side?

One thing I hadn’t thought of is that I could rejoin the choir at National Cathedral, which would have been a haul without a car because the public transportation in Georgetown is almost nonexistent. I am positive that there are good music programs in Baltimore, too, it was just a pleasure singing in that building and something I’d like to get back to if I can.

Singing in general is good for me. I got a mood lift from singing to you guys yesterday. So that obviously needs to continue. I liked the idea of a mixed media entry and may do more of them in the future if I can think of musical quotes I’d like to use.

Right now, my sinus mask is full and I’m not feeling the greatest. There’s a hot shower in my future, as well as a trip to a convenience store or Starbucks for caffeine. Which route I go depends on how long I want to walk in the rain. 😉

Although the rain is supposed to be stopping, according to Carrot Weather, in 48 minutes. That’s enough time to take a hot shower and medicate with Zyrtec and Sudafed. By then, I should be able to breathe without incident, and I’m in favor.

I’ll get some caffeine and then come back to my cozy basement apartment that would be a lot cozier if the maintenance people had bothered fixing everything in the weeks I was away. The shame of it is that this could be a great apartment, it’s just not. It’s cheaply put together and the water pressure is almost nonexistent in the kitchen. Doing dishes drives me up the wall and back down. There are also no overhead lights, thus why I have to purchase my own.

It was a lot cozier before I had upstairs neighbors. They are extremely loud and I have no idea what to do about it because it’s not their fault. There’s no soundproofing. When they walk, it sounds like there are blocks on their shoes. When they are doing activities, it sounds like something is going to drop on my head. I have no idea what these activities are, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a monster truck rally as I thought previously.

Now that I’m starting to think about caffeine, my day is feeling more fun. Do I want something light, fruity, and bubbly? Or do I want something dark and brooding? Yesterday, I had a cup of dark roast and a matcha latte at different points (PROTEIN!). Today, it may be time for a zero calorie Bang of some kind (cherry vanilla is my favorite, like ultra-caffeinated Cheerwine). It will just depend on my mood after I start walking. The sun isn’t even up yet, so perhaps dark and brooding IS my jam….

I do like the Pumpkin Spice Cold Brew. The pumpkin spice cold foam tastes brilliant and it’s not too overpowering like a latte might be.

The raspberry cold foam on their cold brew is good, too, but I surprised myself by thinking the pumpkin spice was better.

I could also start putting pumpkin spice in the grounds in my coffee maker, but that would be too easy.

This morning my brain feels a little bit scrambled because I decided to write, then caffeinate. Those entries always come out a bit weird, because you are literally watching my initiation sequence. My brain never stops running. Thank God you never stop reading.

Apparently, I should have waited until today to say that I wanted to be a philanthropist. 😉

Yesterday, I picked to give money to Water.org, and that is still at the top of my list just because I would hope it would lead to more projects with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. But there are other organizations that are near and dear to my heart. So let’s just pretend that I have already achieved the billions of dollars it would take to fix the world and this is just free money- I’m writing a check to World Central Kitchen.

Or perhaps I’m writing out that check to me, to make The Sinners’ Table a reality. It’s a project I’ve been working on in fits and starts for a long time, bringing dinner with dignity to the homeless. The chef I was working on it with, John-Michael Kinkaid, was killed in a car accident last December and I’ve been floundering on it. But “dinner with dignity” isn’t a trite phrase, it’s fine dining for people who couldn’t afford it, plus a place to plug into the kitchen if they’d like to learn a trade.

I still think it’s a good idea and would like to work with more people on it. But my fire for the project is tempered as it becomes the John Kinkaid Memorial Sinners’ Table. That part may or may not make it onto the t-shirts, but the project doesn’t have anyone else’s fingerprint on it except mine, and mine isn’t worth much. It’s why I’d like to go to culinary school and re-learn the basics, plus earn a degree that will help me. I have scouted out Finnish culinary schools because they are free, but it depends on a lot if I’ll be able to go. Alternatively, I might have enough money to go to culinary school in the United States, but I don’t know that yet, or even if I’d want to do so. Part of the appeal of going to culinary school was getting out of the United States…….

Perhaps the answer is to apply for a job at World Central Kitchen so that I have some experience working inside that organization before I build my own. I know that it would be different than working in a restaurant, that the pace for prep and service would be a marginally slower pace than in a restaurant. It might be something I could hack, and even better if they had jobs answering phones or collecting donations. I would like to know how to run a nonprofit just as much as I’d like to cook.

I have so many pie in the sky dreams that it’s hard to know where to start, but the basic premise of the prompt is easy. I have a million dollars to give away. I chose World Central Kitchen to receive it all because according to yesterday’s prompt, I am already a billionaire philanthropist who cannot fail. 😉

Jose, the check is not in the mail because this is a fictional exercise, but know that if someone gave me a million dollars to give away, I would be hard pressed to find people more deserving than WCK. My sister and I hit up your restaurants all the time because not only do we eat well, we feel good about supporting you as you feed war-torn Europe and beyond.

But see, the thing is that I would love to be in charge of sending checks to organizations that help people in need. The perfect job for me is giving away money, or it would be if I was talented at finance. In my head, I am capable of giving away money. Realistically, I need to hire someone who will tell me if I can give away money or not. 😉 I am the type person who would find themselves unable function after giving their last dollar to someone else.

I should at least think about volunteering somewhere, because there’s no shortage of opportunities with World Central Kitchen and the thousands of other ministries between DC and Baltimore to help the less fortunate. I’m in a stronger position with my disability case if I am a volunteer rather than working, so now I have arrived at a direction.

In choosing my next neighborhood, I’d like to have a church within walking distance. That narrows my search down a little bit because there’s only a handful of churches I mean. If there’s no rainbow and Black Lives Matter flags in the yard, I don’t want it.

Most of my ability to give without thinking comes from the idea that Jesus was sent here to distress the comfortable, not to comfort the distressed. It’s a paradigm shift from white nationalist Christianity- I am unapologetically in favor of liberation theology. It’s what sets me apart as a social justice warrior who thinks that more people would be happy if they stopped thinking about what happens after they die and try to bring heaven here.

A million dollars won’t bring the entirety of heaven to earth, but it’s a million dollars closer than I was before this prompt.

The trait I value most about myself is that I’m not afraid to say the quiet part out loud.

I’m learning that there aren’t many quiet parts in life because the more you’re able to be vulnerable, the more you’re able to get empathy. The more you’re able to get empathy, the more you want to give that feeling to others. Shutting yourself off from the world is definitely a thing you can do, but how it helps? Not so sure I liked it when I was touch starved and lonely for so many years. I’ve had more hugs in the last few days than I have in the last four or five years.

It’s how I realized family was so important and that I needed to cultivate it in Baltimore if I was going to stay. Going home would be the easiest choice, but not necessarily the right one because it’s the most expensive.

But perhaps the most expensive is the best for my mental health, and I have to do what’s best for it. I would have to learn to ignore a lot of the world around me and focus on making myself a better person, because there is nothing I can do about the state of Texas politics except vote and encourage others. But I’m not going to release anyone from a cult, and that’s what Texas politics has become in its service to the president.

Houston has a lot of crime, but there are also a lot of Trump voters here. That’s why I doubt that Houston’s crime rate matters. It’s more politically expedient to target Democratic strongholds. Baltimore is probably going to be next. If the National Guard cleans up the city by actually cleaning, that would be great. There are parts of the city that look absolutely war-torn, and we could use the help. But that kind of help is not what the president means to imply.

I am hoping that the National Guard will show itself to be for America by protecting protestors rather than creating violent situations.

But thinking about all of these things makes me focus less on taking care of myself. I don’t mean to be selfish, but taking care of myself is work that I’ve been ignoring. My social masking and compensatory skills are off the charts for all the adaptations I’ve developed to cover my weird, but now that I’m old they don’t work.

My body cannot compensate as fast, because what medical disorder gets better? I am at a loss as to what to do, because I need my family in a different way than I ever have before, but my safety and security legally and medically is in a blue state.

Plus, I love access to the water. Whether it’s the Potomac, the Willamette, or the Chesapeake, I just like being on the coast. I know within myself that Oregon is probably off the table for right now, but may be a possibility later in life if Evan and I are successful at writing this cookbook and need to collaborate full time.

I will be able to make a better decision once my car gets here and I can spend the day driving around and looking at neighborhoods. I’m becoming convinced that both Baltimore and the DMV are possibilities, I just have to make up my mind quickly. The DMV is easier for Lindsay and there’s plenty of support for me in Rockville. I already have everything set up here, but it would be easy enough to transfer.

I am also pretty sure that I am Baltimore weird and not DC dress-up. Now that I have a car, it doesn’t feel like I live any further away from downtown DC than my friends in the outer reaches of Northern Virginia. It just feels longer to people from Virginia. 😉

I suppose it can be with traffic, but I don’t have to get out in it. I can wait until it dies down, though there’s always a little bit of traffic between the two cities.

Again, it’s too early to tell without a car to explore, but I’d love to live in a walkable neighborhood so that the only time I needed to drive was to pick up groceries and go on road trips.

Short ones, if I’m by myself.

I look forward to them, as my next will probably be to visit friends for Halloween in upstate New York. I have mentioned this if you are a fan. I’m mentioning it again because it’s something to look forward to down the road, literally.

In the meantime, I’ve been staring at my stats wondering why I appeal to such a worldwide audience. What is it about me that translates to India, for instance? I have a lot of Indian fans and it makes me happy because it’s fun wondering what their daily lives might entail. I’ve also thought about getting a t-shirt made that says, “I’m kind of a big deal in India.” I just don’t know what to say when questioned. 😉

I am not “kind of a big deal” in India. I’ve just noticed that most of my overseas fans are from there. And in fact, I’m interested in all of my nonwhite fans, because I speak out on a lot of issues that should be people of color’s voices first.

I get it wrong sometimes because I’m white. I’m also capable of being taught when I’ve erred. White fragility does not apply to me because I’m desperately interested in learning how to be a better ally. I’m trying to show that I may not have walked a mile in a black person’s shoes, but as a queer person I know where they pinch.

I wish that people would feel the same outrage they’d feel at SCOTUS overturning “Loving” for “Obergefell.”Too many straight people feel that being queer is a sin, voting on things that have never affected them and shouldn’t be up for debate. Gay people getting married should have had to be approved by straight people. We exist and want to partner up whether you’re in our lives or not. I wish that settled law would stay settled, but if “Roe” has been overturned, there’s no limit to what could happen in America’s future.

It’s why I’m still thinking about school abroad while Trump is president and then reassessing whether I’d like to come back. It just depends on who would have me, but being nonbinary opens up options.

It really depends on what my dad and sister think. I wouldn’t want to put myself in a situation where they couldn’t come and visit easily. But that is relative because they both love to travel. I just need to focus on myself so that I can take these big changes in stride.

Nothing is more important than getting a good night’s rest, because I find that I can handle more during the day if I sleep well. I am trying to create a morning routine for myself, which is being met by resistance from my demand avoidance.

My therapist has their work cut out for them, as do I. The hallmark of neurodivergence is not being able to create habits… that every task takes the same amount of energy no matter how many times you’ve done it because nothing goes on autopilot. I haven’t been coping well in the past, which is why cognitive behavioral therapy is so important to my future.

It takes a lot of chutzpah to admit that anything is wrong with you, because of course I care about what people think. I just care about telling my truth more, because it attracts the right people to me. I wouldn’t get along in life very well if my friends and family couldn’t put up with my blog entries.

I have already had one friend accuse me of using my blog to manipulate her, but I hope that is fading now that she’s out of my life and my story hasn’t changed at all. I am using the Oasis model of “Don’t Look Back in Anger.” I’m not a manipulator, and no one says that when they first start reading. They say that after they’ve known me for a long time and are a part of the story.

I don’t know how to manage writing about my life without ruffling any feathers, and in fact told Aada that I would burn the whole thing down and start writing books if she’d edit them. It was a bargain that didn’t work because she was too angry to listen to me.

But I don’t have a history of lying to her.

It was my way of saying, “I know your career is more important than mine and I know I messed up.” It was not an insincere offer in the slightest, because at the time, I’d had enough of blowback and thought relaxing with an editor would slow all of that down…. posting every day leads to possible blowback every day.

But writing about my life would be uninteresting if I had no friends and just sat in my own echo chamber, and I know that because I am not interesting to me as I sit in this apartment. Aada became my focus because she was out there living her life and I was sitting here hearing about it…. but I wasn’t really creating a life outside of that.

It’s a new era. This morning I woke up and walked to Wendy’s, where I was standing in the world’s longest line…. and just got out of it and left because I realized that if I waited to order I’d be late for my psychiatrist’s appointment. We’re doing telehealth so I only had to dash back to my house, but it was still a close call.

Then, this afternoon I walked to the convenience store to get a can of Hawaiian cold coffee, a Diet Dr Pepper, a Gatorade, and a watermelon juice. I drank the watermelon juice as I walked home, because it was new and novel to me.

That’s two walks I would have had trouble making before I left for Texas, because I seem to have come back a little more gregarious. I think I had to be reminded who I am.

I wasn’t agoraphobic the entire time I was in Texas, but I had my sisters, dad, and friends around me.

Again, it all comes back to vulnerability and saying the quiet part out loud. I will have friends and chosen family in Baltimore, it’s just about being brave enough to ask.

Duo is mad at me right now because I broke my streak when Angela died and I haven’t gone back. I will, but I focused on my family and just took a vacation from the bird. Ironic because I actually needed Spanish on my trip (my car dealer didn’t speak much English).

In fact, it was cute. We signed all the papers and we were just standing around and he shyly says, “do you like Monster?” I said yes and he brought me one, and we had a toast to the sale.

“Do you like Monster?” It was one of his only full statements in English, and touched my heart with the way he said it. There was a tinge of sadness because I think he was sorry he didn’t have any champagne. Little did he know that given the choice between champagne and Monster, he’d already bought the perfect bubbly.

I am currently in waiting mode as my car is being delivered from Texas. When it arrives, I will go and buy another Monster to cheers it again. It’s kind of our thing.

It’s always good to know an honest car dealer, and we met one. The only thing I didn’t catch was his name, because he never gave me his card. I’ll have to ask Aaron if he remembers, because Aaron is my mechanic friend that I took with me to make sure the car was safe and reliable.

This morning, my personal goal was a coffee at Starbucks, and now it has been achieved. I got a pumpkin spice cold brew (shut it). I slept okay, but not great, so I needed this boost. I’m feeling pretty nice right now, as my ADHD brain feels the caffeine washing over it. Caffeine just massages my thoughts enough to put them in order, and I’m hard pressed to find a more effective medication. I have been on Ritalin and Adderrall in the past, but sometimes it has been too much correction. Coffee seems to be the happy medium, with the occasional energy drink thrown in when my acid reflux says, “no more.”

I didn’t have to feed the dogs this morning, and I miss them already. I don’t have any pets, so my dad’s dogs provided me with some much needed puppy love over my “vacation.”

It seems odd to me to refer to it as a vacation, but that’s what it was. Angela was not supposed to die in the middle, she just did. Cancer took her faster than we thought, but I was already planning to go and see Brené Brown with my sister for my birthday. Angela’s funeral was one of the highlights of my trip because watching my father was a master class in working through pain. The service was absolutely beautiful and his sermon has become everyone’s mantra:

1. Nothing will ever be the same.
2. Everything will be okay.

I am not the only one repeating those words all the time, because people have commented on it.

I understand what it took for my father to organize and prepare that service, as well as preach it, in a way that my sisters never will because they’ve never pinch hit for a pastor before.

I also understand that it is the work that saves you. You have a laser like focus on getting the message across.

Getting the message across seems to be my personal goal without actually ever setting it. I work through pain and elation. However, I have never worked through losing a spouse to cancer on this web site. My father curated a beautiful service from beginning to end, and people will quote him forever. It was a uniquely beautiful service to attend, and I’m so glad I could be there in person.

I didn’t want to leave my dad, because he was sick the day I left. I took an Uber to the airport while he was battling it out. It was harder to leave him knowing that he will come down from all the adrenaline of working through Angela’s funeral. Someone else will have to be there to catch in person while I’m only available by phone.

This doesn’t sit well with me, but it is how it is.

I told my dad that I wanted him to come and visit me in the new year, after I’m settled (I’m moving soon). I hope he’ll take me up on it, because we always have a good time checking out new restaurants together. Plus, I think he likes driving my car. 🙂

I like driving my car, too. It’s a personal goal to be a safe and responsible driver. For me, that means reading about the technology available on my Fusion to assist me in driving. My car will be here sometime between today and Saturday, so I’m counting down the minutes.

I have picked up this entry several times today, and I don’t generally scroll up. Because this is a scratch journal and not meant to be me, all dressed up, I tend to repeat myself when I write that way… but it’s not altogether a bad thing. This journal is for me- you guys just pick out the lines you like.

One of these days, an editor is going to come after me with a red pen and I will be unrecognizable to myself. Janie the Canadian Editor has offered and I have fallen down on my part of the project, which is going through and picking out entries I’d like to use in a “bound edition,” shorthand for Kindle store.

I’ve also been asked why I don’t just Google literary agents and have them comb the site. Well, that’s easy. I don’t know what stuff of mine is good enough for publication and what’s not. I figure that my followers are connected enough that a literary agent could lurk on their word alone. Basically, I want any success I have to come from you, not because I think I’m all that and a bag of chips.

I may promote a few things like the marriage article because it would be nice to have enough fans to support myself, and a post that has already received an enormous amount of praise is a good place to start. It would be ironic as I am nowhere near the same person I was when I wrote the article, but the sentiment behind it still stands.

I will love Dana forever because of that article- she became the seed of a new era for “Stories” in more ways than one. Any success I have today can be pointed to that one piece, because when my blog was popular before it was under a different name and URL.

Although anything I wrote back then that I liked, I think I’ve managed to import. There may be one or two pieces I need in the Internet Archive, but I feel like I’ve mined it for enough gold.

Later, my personal goal is to go to the office to get the parking pass for my Fusion, because all cars are subject to being towed if they don’t have one. It would be a dumbass attack on my part if my car was delivered and I forgot.

But that’s exactly the kind of thing that would happen to me because I don’t tend to set personal goals in advance. Lack of preparation on my part does not create an emergency on theirs, etc. It’s just that lack of preparation is par for the course with neurodivergence of all kinds…. which means that neurodivergent people like me are often hurricanes in other people’s lives without knowing it. The parking pass is the most inert example I can think of, but there are many others in my life that have caused harm.

I need a harm reduction personal goal and plan, because these disabilities and disorders have to be managed. Cognitive behavioral therapy is teaching me foundational things I might have missed, and providing me an outlet to make friends locally.

Most of my friends live remotely, which is why it was so nice to be in Texas for so long. I didn’t get to see everyone I wanted to see, but I did get to visit Aaron in Bastrop for a few days while we car shopped and then I waited for my check to clear.

The hill country is a sight to behold, and I haven’t been there in roughly 30 years. It was beautiful watching the sun come up from Aaron’s back deck.

Watching him interact with his wife, Brinna, reminded me of the love that brought you that marriage article so long ago. It reminded me to give dating another try, that I really would like a partner at least some days. I’m overwhelmed by the idea on others. But I at least see baby steps in that direction once I set a personal goal.

It hasn’t been a personal goal for me to find a partner because I was busy doing other things. Writing and dating don’t really go together unless the date is so bad it’s comical. The rest of the time, it’s just work- a conversation to determine if you’d like to have another conversation, as a friend put it.

I envision a quiet life whether my writing takes off or not. It’s not my decision whether that happens or not, it’s my public. It’s not my job to judge my writing as creative art. Once I hit post, my words do not belong to me anymore, they belong to what the reader takes away.

This entry could probably be tightened into a couple of paragraphs, but if you read me, you probably like the unedited version of Krista Tippett’s podcast, “On Being” as well.

I listened to the episode with Atul Gawande on my way to Bastrop because I wanted to feel closer to my dad and stepmom. It was the episode where he talked about “Being Mortal,” and how palliative care is changing to accommodate the important things to the patient before they die. It was a beautiful conversation to hear after my stepmom had been through those conversations with her own doctors.

I haven’t cried as much as I thought I would, because it was so clear that Angela was in pain. Wanting her to continue her life just so we could talk more would have been the height of arrogance. I didn’t cry as much over my mother for the same reason- I understood the medicine behind why she died, and it gave me a finality that being a layperson to medicine just doesn’t have.

I’m not a doctor, but I’ve worked as a medical assistant. I’m not the one that makes any decisions, I’m just the one that makes notes before the doctor comes into the room.

That particular doctor is now gone, but her spirit lives on in my dad and the four of us girls, who have built a language and blended a family over the years.

To the friends I didn’t get to see in Houston, I’m so sorry. I overextended myself. There will definitely be a next time. Though I do not know exactly when and for how long. I have time to think about moving back to Texas if that’s what I want to do, but I don’t want to do anything right now. I want to talk to my dad about this because I have so little experience trying to execute.

Right now I’m rambling because I’m hungry and waiting for lunch to be delivered. I needed some comfort food, and happiness is a cheap taqueria. I don’t think I ordered nearly enough cheese.

I should have made it a personal goal.

My family came to America from Ireland, and there’s nothing about Ireland I don’t want to see in the coming years. The music and food calls to me, and I have Fanagans across the country. How? I don’t really know. But thanks to the magic of WordPress stats, I know that Ireland loves me as much as I love it. 🙂

One of Angela’s patients told me that Lanagans are from county Wexford, but I don’t know if that’s where my grandfather tracked our family or not. I just remember her lovely Irish lilt when she said it.

I know that I’d want to go to Trinity College and see all the sights, but what really interests me about Ireland is just fitting into life for a few days. Going up to the pub and finding people with interesting stories. Singing with everyone to wind down the night.

It just sounds like a very chill vacation to go to Ireland and live like a local. Relax and soak in the social history of the place, perhaps seeing the same people every night so as to get to know them well.

I used to work in a pub, and I’m eager to find that atmosphere again. Perhaps I could bring “Lanagan’s Pub Chili” to Ireland the same way I brought it to Oregon…. by getting my name on the menu.

As I have always said, “the fact that my last name is Lanagan is really what sold it. I don’t think it would have worked out so well for me if my last name was Smith.”