“I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat, or a prostitute.” ― Rebecca West, The Young Rebecca: Writings, 1911-1917
Saturday, September 22, 2012
What else?
I asked in one of my previous blogs, what else can happen? No hurricanes, fortunately, but lots else. Last night my iPad, my only surviving computer device after I spilled lemonade on my Macbook, fell off the table where I had placed it and shattered the glass on the bottom right side. Fortunately, it still works (I taped the area where the glass is shattered). Why, I ask, am I having such bad karma? I waited to visit Maine until September, supposedly from the natives the best month of the year. It's been raining more than not, and even worse the bugs are still here. Every day I discover a new lump, and I have a fly in my sitting room that's become so much a part of my life I've given him (possibly a her) a name. It's very difficult to kill anything, even a fly, when it has a name. Sigh!
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