I don't mean to jump on the "My Dad Died Too" train (it is the worst train), but my father died last May and I don't think it's something you get over; I think even when it's not something I'm directly thinking about, it's like a constant bass line underneath everything else.
Something that helped me was seeing Laurie Kilmartin go through a similar experience on Twitter last February. I'm not saying "Go read those tweets, it will fix stuff", but just: seeing someone else with a roughly similar mindset as mine go through it and hitting similar dark places and finding similar absurdities ended up being something that was good for me.
Is Middlemarch what we're calling The Goldfinch? Or
Wait until Tom Perkins plays Candy Crush
Mike Leigh should just start walking up to strangers and going, "OK, stop, come out of character." I know I'd benefit from it
@jolie I was leaning toward the Vollmann marriage until I got to the part about how mascara is hard.
Oh man, just when my lonelygirl15 wounds had finally scarred over
@hopelessshade (hey I grew up there too! Remember the Palms Theatre? OK, thanks for going down this trip through memory lane with me)
I discover no kinship, no understanding, no mercy. I see only the overwhelming indifference of hula hoops.
My introduction to him was a summer when my "job" was transferring recordings of him from my Dad's reel-to-reel to cassette by holding my Panasonic tape recorder next to the speaker. It is sort of weird to hear this song without a vacuum cleaner in the background.
Imagine the size of the EAR we could grow on the back of that thing