July 4, 2023

 Happy July 4 to those of you who still think we’re living in a democracy and actually have independence. Oh, and fuck you, Donald Trump and your hideous cult. Thanks for completely ruining America.

Anyhow…

This is exclusive blog content again, for my eyes and probably no one else but that’s the point.

I’m upset.

First the good news. I actually completed my first full length novel in over ten years. It’s called Leaving Candyland and what I hope I accomplished is addressing the dark side of aging with humor. It’s a beach read for women of a certain age, but I hope it’s more than that. It deals with loss and change and there’s definitely a moral to the story.

Now. What do I do with it?

I’m retired. If I try to get it published traditionally, the first thing they’ll ask me is what my marketing plan is.

I don’t want to work ever again. I don’t want anyone telling me what to do.

Also, I don’t want to be rejected. I remember how many times my last book was either ignored or cruelly rejected and opening that  email would be a knife to my heart.

So I should self publish it, right? I have almost 4,000 Facebook friends. I could sell it there.

Except…

It’s probably the best thing I ever wrote. I love this book. Am I selling myself short by self-publishing it without even trying for commercial success?

Gah! I don’t know. I’m thinking of asking a friend to read it but I don’t think anyone will be honest with me and they’ll say it’s great even if it’s awful.

Just like I would do if someone asked me. I mean, who is going to say that to a friend?

So I don’t know what to do. I still need to edit it just a bit more but I will wrap that up this week.

So that’s my good news.

I’m in a bad head because I’m hurt and I know there’s nothing I can do about it.

If you look at my social media, I have a very glamorous life. I get to brag about my celebrity kids all the time. To say I’m proud would be putting it mildly.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that Julie moved to Seattle and Eric to Nashville and they’re not coming back. I know it’s the way of the world now.

But it’s really hard for Gary and me on holidays and special occasions. We’re not just alone, we have to watch Julie and Eric celebrate with their partners’ families, who do live where they do.

It’s brutal. 

Holidays were so much fun when the kids were here. The house was always packed with their friends and Gary would be behind the barbecue grill cranking out his famous burgers…

I dunno. I guess I thought the kids would be over here for dinner at least once a week for eternity. Now I consider it a great year if I see them more than twice a year.

Again, I love them to the moon and back and I get it, I really do.

The one thing I still had was my birthday because since 2011, Julie and Gary always go to prog rock camp in NY the week before my birthday and Julie drives home with Gary for a few days to celebrate.

Eric is always involved with Natalie’s family the month of August. I accept that because it’s the month Nat’s sister and family visit from Germany and they all vacation together.

Anyway, long story short, Julie casually remarked to me the other day that she won’t be coming home with Gary for my birthday this year because she’s doing something with her partner’s cousins in NY after camp instead.

My heart kind of broke.

I think I’m doing fine and trying to be a better person but I haven’t been able to stop crying. I just feel like Gary and I are getting old and…oh fuck fuck fuck.

How many birthdays does Julie think I have left?

That’s the other piece of this. I haven’t told anyone but I don’t feel well and it’s getting worse. I have an appointment with my cardiologist on 8/3 and I’m scared.

People my age die.

Hopefully this is just me being a depressed hypochondriac. I can still eat, so there’s that.

Peace.