From time to time someone will pop into your head and you wonder whatever happened to them. And then you google them. Yes, you do, don't deny it. Memory is like the studio of a dishonest photographer, cluttered with altered photos he will proudly show the ego--and half-developed ones that might have told the truth. … Continue reading Sort of memory of a sort of friendship.
From graduate school to retail, via epilepsy road. Don't mind me, just walking down the hall, having a little seizure... If it weren’t for Internet support forums, I’d never know the stories of other epileptic people. Guilt lifts through catharsis when you realize that so many of the things you blamed yourself for were really … Continue reading Where I was all those years