Thank you, Anne-Marie!

I'm back!

Yes, I am an American nixing my facebook account and to here I return.

I mean no offense to the people there. fbook made me able to locate cousins that my deep, dark start of a past ... or, the adults within it ... caused quite a lengthy separation from. My cousins and I reunited over facebook and it was this time of year one year ago (right before xmas) we saw each other for the first time for real.

Another reunion happened to do with a friend who had saved my life (he kept me warm, hydrated, and he made sure I made appointments to a clinic when I had chronic pneumonia) back when I was aged 18. That was 1984. In 2019, his sister found me on fbook and I was able to visit with him, to thank him and truly mean it, before he passed away.

I believe this blog site is private to those I'd approved and that I won't be distracted by likes and products and fun quizzes and headlines to be tracked and exposed. I'm relearning how blogger even works, having nothing more than amnesia as to how TBWHM drew me in. It may take me a spell before I can comment as ginab (as I was). (I had to crack the code, jimmy the door knob, using my work email so who knows if I've done it right.)

The new year will ring in soon. 2019 was the year I saw The Who for the last time. My friend passed away. I became certified in nonsense. The cousins look forward to seeing me again in 2020. In 2019, reached over to my estranged sister who had no response and then some beau from her past reached over on the past-book (through messenger) to suggest she may be an addict. Had I a gun, I would have shot my phone.

In 2020, I will work a second job on top of the full time job, but maybe I am lucky. (The additional work is that I was hired to edit proposals for another university on a remote basis.) Mainly, losing the car brought a new one into the picture and then the townhome where I live received a new furnace while it needs further updates. I would like to catch up and as well afford all of that. I can't on the one income.

I tried dating but that won't work. A poem came after a recent attempt and it was directed to someone I can't shake. Besides, I have no understanding for someone to really do for me much and with two jobs, I don't need a third. If I have my health this year (there's a procedure for the 13th) I may seriously track the coming ten years. I know I can retire in 8. How excited will I be? I at times feel as I did as a child: anxious to grow up and get out.