It's been a while since I last bothered to post. I won't bother to check how long, but I know it's been more than a couple of days. It doesn't really surprise me; I have never been able to keep a regular journal.

Never.

I can remember wayyyyyy back as a kid getting a journal. I was inspired by Marsha Brady, who kept a diary until her bratty sister Cindy gave it away to a charity drive. It all ended well, though. Marsha met Desi Arnaz Jr. Who could stay mad a sister with curls after that?

But I digress.

Since I last troubled myself to do this, a few things have happened. First and foremost, my mom was in a car accident. As a gay man, I am very, very devoted to my mother. It's only been a couple of years since dad died. If anything happened to mom I think I'd slide quietly into insanity — for a few moments anyway. I would never sully her memory by letting it make me something she wouldn't be proud of. But I would be affected in a profound way I don't like to contemplate.

Fortunately, other than some ugly bruises, which will heal, some sour muscles, which will heal, and some trauma-induced fear, which will eventually heal, she's fine.