After reading a few of my articles in the paper, my uncle gave me the gift of Katharine Graham's autobiography Personal History, which so far has been an interesting read. Sure, I'm only up to page 15, but her writing style already has me hooked. I've been thinking about this one line about her mother's career decision all day: As she wrote later, when she told her family that she intended to do newspaper reporting, "My mother wept and my father said solemnly: 'I would rather see you dead.' " Sometimes I wish I could see what it was like to live back in a time where opportunities were not as readily available as they are now. It just makes me wonder what I would fight for.
Segue. I'm tired and "That 70's Show" is distracting me from being more creative or skillful.
Since I've been home from Boston to rural suburbia, I've rediscovered the therapeutic powers of driving my truck at night with the windows down and singing loud and quite well if I do say so myself, and with no witnesses to refute me, my statement will stand strong. At 10 o'clock at night, seeing more than 4 cars on the road is a rarity and drivers run the risk of being swallowed whole by the so-called "potholes" that, if filled with water, could serve as a child sized swimming pool. There's just something freeing about being the only one on the road, nevermind being one of a few still awake, so a celebratory sing along to Eddie Money's "Take Me Home Tonight" is more than appropriate.
For the sake of continuity, I think updating more than once a week will be beneficial. I'm going to hold myself to that with Blogspot as my witness. There's nothing more binding than that.