My Cardboard Balcony

So I'm posting this past midnight on Saturday, but we're gonna count it for Friday's introspection, because I was out late and it's been a long, difficult, anxiety-filled week...with a good ending, of course. As most of you know by now, the presidential election has been taking a toll on me. Now, I'm not going to name names, considering that there miiiiiight be a candidate or two who would sic their lawyers on me if I got too nasty, but you don't have to be a genius to know what's going on in the United States and why it's such a big deal. Long story short: I'm embarrassed for my country and definitely worried about its future. I got so worried, in fact, that it nearly compromised me emotionally. I had crying fits, obsessively read articles, and constantly turned to friends and loved for consoling and affirmation. I thank everyone who was subjected to that, and I also apologize for making you deal with it. You are all saints. But fear not, those

Theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven by Belinda Roddie Blessed are those who buy me pizza and cold beer.

For several years, I thought I wanted to be an acrobat – a dancer and spinner and flipper at the circus, dazzling the crowds as my outfit shimmered with colors and glitter. But that was before the accident. I had spent considerable time in the hospital afterward, mentally debating just where my life would go next. Especially since, after all, I never longer had any legs below the knee. My mother was beside herself, and my father could hardly speak. He sat around my hospital room a lot silently, just biting his lip and shaking his head. Unlike them, however, I was stoic, matter-of-fact; I could tell they were shocked, almost mortified, by my superficial calm.