Recently, after reading about a breakfast club, my breakfast club envy flared up.
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I was happy that my mind was still logical enough
I have a record of attraction to worn things. Before Kindle, back when I read paperback books, they appealed to me far more after I roughed them up with: dog-ears, notes in the margins and swollen pages from the times I read them in my hot tub.
With President Obama on the verge of crossing the half-century line, age-wise, I recall my own (embarrassinglynarcissistic) 50th birthday party on Home Goes Strong. I thought I’d share with you the invitation I’d sent. Author’s note: I no longer pee a droplet whenever I sneeze. YOU’RE INVITED (TO MY FIFTIETH) I’m changing …