So glad to have most of the holidays behind me. My daughter, Skyler, spent a few nights and we had so much fun together like two girls at a slumber party. 
We laughed until we cried more than once. I am really blessed to have her and I tell her quite often.
Interview by Susan Kay Anderson
Less-than-revered by his Beat peers (Ginsberg gave him the ungainly nickname “Bunthorne,” Burroughs once observed him—drunk—crawling along the floor of a hotel after a reading event, Ferlinghetti said he “was all the novelist the hippies needed” because “[i]t was a nonliterate age”), Richard Brautigan became internationally famous in the late ’60s for writing simple-yet-surreal poems, short stories and novels that made readers marvel and burst out laughing.
Brautigan’s personal life, however, was no laughing matter. Severe alcoholism—drinking a bottle of brandy and two fifths of whiskey a day during binges, according to friend Don Carpenter—and depression over declining book sales led to Brautigan’s suicide in September 1984. He was 49.
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This has been a nice day. A stressful one, but it's over and it's time to relax. It was all fine until my Mother reverted back to my high school days, came to my room and made a motion with her arms like an umpire calling a runner out at base.
"Get 'em outta here!" she yelled.
"I saw those two boys, now get them out of here NOW!"
I was stunned. "Knock yourself out", I say as she goes from room to room looking for errant visitors.
I felt steam building up inside of a now teenage version of me being scolded... and I say something about "...I'm a grownasswoman, almost 60 fucking years old and if I wanted to have "boys" over to vist, by God, "boys" would be visiting."
Tomorrow I might put up my Christmas tree. Again.
Actually if I do it'd be the 3rd time in two weeks.
The first time that I put it up it was so beautiful and I took some photos and I added some packages under the tree. But it wasn't standing sturdy enough and it fell crashing down and sent all the items scattering, some shattering. Sigh...
It's 7-ft tall and is crammed full of mostly collectible ornaments.
So I put it up a second time. The big snow storm that rocked the whole east coast came through Friday night and a snow-heavy willow tree fell and hit our power pole which (among other things) blew out the tree lights so I had to remove the burned out Christmas tree lights.
You cannot take off your tree lights without knocking off most all the ornaments and the beads and pearls, etc, so I stripped that sonofabitch down again and "bare ass naked" it now sits in the living room.
Maybe tomorrow we try again? Let me consult my Eight Ball.
After a reboot a few days ago I seemed to have lost the new comment form I was trying out. It's Intense Debate and I like what it offers so I'm trying it again...
Thanks for your patience. (Like I'm speaking to the masses or something)
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