Four months later . . .
Promises, promises, promises. I told myself I would write in this blog once a week, every week. I don't understand why this is so difficult for me, other than the fact that I hate typing and I'm a horrible typist -- something like 25 words a minute with 20 mistakes. Oh, if my high school typist teacher could see me now . . . . Do I have something important to say? What is important? Do you care if I think Israel is wrong and that thousands of everyday Palestinians should not have to die, starve, flee from bombs, and be evicted from their homes because Hamas did a stealth attack on Israel? Do you care that Governor DeSantis scares the hell out of me because I believe him to be a dictator-wannabe? Do you care that I believe in stricter gun control laws, that 18-year-olds should not be able to walk into a store and buy weapons of human mass destruction? Do you care that I think human beings should have the right to live the lives they feel is true to themselves -- whether they are