How is it possible that I should be so sick of baseball?

How is it that Hollywood lost its magic in my lifetime, I miss glamour, the evening gowns by Edith Head, the dancing, Marilyn.

How is it that we, as a society, grew to hate manual labour? I was never happy working until I found blue collar work.

This is morphing into a rant. I do need some sleep, more than a little.

If only I could be held, then maybe I could cry. Is that the conundrum of our time, that we all do not admit to?