When my long-term relationship ended quite suddenly last summer, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Several months later, I moved from Lansdale, PA where I'd made my home, and am now living in Lancaster. On Friday, the day before my birthday, I needed to be in Philadelphia for my CASA kid's court hearing, and my wonderful adopted-family let me spend the weekend with them back in Lansdale. On the morning of my birthday, I got to hang out with a truly fantastic eleven year-old, and we made Invader Zim action figures out of Sculpey clay and some wire. I am now the proud owner of one such action figure-- he's glued to a magnet and chilling on the side of my fridge. Happy birthday to me!
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A dear friend took us to a bookstore in Lansdale and told me to choose some books as her present to me. I chose three: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, by Judith Viorst/ Ray Cruz; Miss Nelson is Missing, by Harry Allard and James Marshall; and Bastard Out of Carolina, by Dorothy Allison. And then my sweet friend inscribed a message, which I've chosen for my first picture.
I'm not sure she realized how much that little message meant to me. Earlier that morning, the boy and I had been cracking open fortune cookies left over from his mother's pre-school Chinese New Year party, and although I pretend to not put much stock in fortunes, I admit I was looking among those tiny slips of crumbly paper for a hidden message, any sort of guide for myself. Instead I found words of encouragement from a friend. Thank you.
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