2:13 am - May 30, 2010
Transmissions from Planet X
I read compulsively. That's where I find my peace. Charles De Lint today, before, Alice Hoffman, Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, Patricia Briggs. Too many to write here. I actually do read a book a day.
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My father is visiting in a week or so. Just thinking about it gives me acid stomach. He swore he wouldn't come back after I disappointed him so much by having bronchitis for his last visit a few years ago. (He was here for the wedding after that. For two days. Wouldn't stay any longer.) He will require constant feeding and entertainment, as well as jolly countenance. Good God, what was my mother thinking to let him travel here alone?
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I miss talking to someone I never really knew, someone I never really will know. I am impatient with myself to get over it. I feel foolish answering an email he probably sent by mistake.
Over and out.
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