New Year, New…Me?
…Probably Not. But I do suppose that it’s the thought that counts. I can’t promise to write more, because I don’t like making promises that I can’t (or won’t) keep. But I will try.
About a month ago a friend of mine died and he was a writer. And while we never spoke of my sad, small, little blog I can safely say that he would tell me to write more. That practice makes perfect and that only way to get better is to do it more. He was a nice man and I didn’t know him terribly well, but he was nice and funny and it’s a shame he’s not here anymore.
So I’m going to try to do what I’m certain he would’ve told me.
On a lighter note (…of sorts) my job continues to be insane because I continue to be an immigration paralegal. I’m not sure how much else there is to say there because Il Ducino is in the White House and frankly, he’s awful. Quota season is coming and all a girl wants as a belated Christmas gift is a new job that doesn’t pay me in peanuts, but real money.
I hope everyone had a nice holiday. Tonight is the Golden Globes and despite all the rape and sexual assault running around Hollywood, I’m totes watching. I like looking at the pretty dresses and yelling at the TV when the wrong* movie/tv show wins. I think it’s fun.
*when I say wrong I mean a movie/tv show I haven’t seen or one I don’t watch or one I consider to have one too many awards. I love me an underdog. Too much of a sports fan, I suppose.