someone bring me a flux capacitor...

I remember the year that the two closest people to me got divorced and HIV respectively. When that happens, you gain a little perspective, a little reality and a little realization that grown-up problems suck. 

I remember thinking that 6 is the perfect age. There's no dating, so money, no driving yourself anywhere. 6 is awesome, where your biggest problem is learning to count past 11 and everyone thinks you're adorable when you're really obnoxious.

I remember wondering what I'd be like when I was a grown-up, imagining my marriage to Joe McIntyre providing it's share of complications, what with his touring schedule alone, but otherwise consisting of sitting by a pool sipping martinis and running my own fabulous magazine, Spotswords. 

It sucks, being a grown-up. Bills, bitches, bail? This shit ain't easy. And as I go through my own grown-up nonsense, wondering what the hell's gonna happen to me, a 30 year-old spinster with a myriad of worries, conundrums and golly, grown-up problems, I find solace in my family, my friends and Stevie. That blind has a way of making me feel better, I can't explain it. And I know you heartless souls hate my sappy stuff. But come one, we all need a little slap on the ass and a reminder. 'Least I do! We can work it out. Probably...