The funniest thing is that I pay for this site. Silly little spendthrift that I am. Compared to paying for a gym membership and never using the gym (a thing I stopped doing a few years ago. Ha HA.) paying for a site where at least things I used to write still exist feels better. Not great, but better.
It's not that nothing happened in the last nine months or so. So many things happened. I saw about ten million plays (indeed, at one point, Imogen Poots showered me with stage blood. That was unexpected.), danced with strangers at a New Year's Eve ceili, read some excellent books (have you read Lincoln in the Bardo? Or Sing, Unburied, Sing? You should do that.), bade farewell to my upstairs neighbors and their numerous motorcycles, made some really good muffins, did a couple of shows, was busy to an unprecedented degree at work. I'm not saying that I couldn't have written about all of those things, but here we are.
In just two days, in my big Auntie Mame moment, I am taking my niece, a newly minted high school graduate, to Europe. She's never been, which means I'm the one who gets to see her face the first time she encounters the Eiffel Tower and The Globe Theatre, and the labyrinth of Central Amsterdam's canals. I can't wait. But I'm even more excited about getting to teach her how to read a Metro map and that buildings have door codes and that it's a good idea to hit the light switch on every landing, so you don't end up in the middle of the last flight in the pitch dark. I want her to know the quotidian details. And then, I want her to go back again and again. Fingers crossed that she'll want to.