I turned 25 on the 30th, an experience best left as low-key as it was; there's no joy in being able to measure one's lifespan in terms of a century. My father and aunt came through town for a whirlwind lunch at Olive Garden on the 1st, leaving Godiva chocolate and some wicked good nutty mini croissants in their wake. My mom spent the past weekend
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Happy belated, babycakes; keep making a difference to those people.
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Thanks, love. I'm trying, but without being a natural schmoozer, journalism is just not something I will ever be great at.
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I cried for hours that night.
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o.O With any luck, I'll be within glaring distance the next time.
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