Ugh. I hate being called a Baby Boomer.
Number one – I am not a baby, but a grown woman, thank you very much. With a birthday racing forward in the shortest month – the one crammed with holidays. My fridge calendar for February will be inked with a Super Bowl get together, wistful notations of New Orleans parades I’ll miss, Valentine’s Day, and my birthday, all squished between dentist appointments and college campus visits and deadlines for scholarship applications.
Today I am on BlogHer.com with a rant about updates. Join me there? Thanks!
Hmm, tell us more about Keith. I remember my first kiss with a particular boy under the floodlight beside the dock alongside a canal. Ahhh,,,,memories.
Reading this was deja vu all over again! I’m a middle-of-the-chart BB; riding that bike through the neighborhood hoping the boys will notice but not my parents was almost a nightly ritual!
From May 24 to September after-Labor-Day, we rode and we rode and we rode…