I am reading a book on writing memoirs. I know. I would rather read about writing one than writing one. But this guy is brilliant. I am inspired, if nothing else, to open my eyes. I am a flickering flame, avoiding drafts as best as I can. Last night I said to a friend that 3 things were for chumps: Brakes, pap smears, and hope. Maybe not. I just hate needing any of them. It's always a disappointment or some unpleasantry. Grinding pads, pushing down and feeling a litlle bit of pressure, or allowing yourself to think it will all be wonderful.