You are you, who are you, because no one else is. People think about you and about what you are doing. To a certain extent, you endorse the people you hang out with and the stuff people see you with. For example: if you buy your dealy boppers at Walmart, you perpetuate the structure that is Walmart and whether or not you like it your presence and your name and your money vouch for the way Walmart conducts itself. There’s no getting around that. Walmart is not your secret boyfriend. Walmart is the boyfriend who lures you into a sick relationship in which you destroy other people’s livelihoods and it’ll be a miracle if you don’t end up on a Bioography Channel women in prison special, but whatever. You look great in stripes.
Thus, the lovely and gifted Meryl Strep may regret making Margaret Thatcher seem human, because Thatcher is and always has been a vile piece of work. And now I have doubts about Streep.
I have been reading your blog for a while. I might have even commented once or twice. But i just would like to encourage you to continue on your goal of a paragraph a day because, honestly, your stream of consciousness is illuminating dusty parts of my brain. I get obsessive over my book shelves and how they are stacked. Different types of books get their own set of shelves, fiction is categorized then alphabetized by author, grouped by series, in order (heaven help people who borrow one of a series, I have to stick a index card in there so i know where my books are!) but the rest of the house is not so organized.