Everything we could have wished for happened, and were we pleased, no we were not, because then we couldn't choose, and when we chose, we said to ourselves we are doing the wrong thing, we are wasting our time, when in fact we were catching up on things not yet done but wished to be done in the past some time; the mind is crazy with the choices of the present times and they are leaving us oldie writers behind unless you want to be wrinkly old and irrelevant and you would be irrelevant because too many of us have heard it all before and groan, boring! So this morning I have nearly finished Dawn French's Memoir/autobiog/letters to alive and dead intimates of hers and felt very much that she deserves the fame and love from strangers that she gets, in fact, I went straight to youtube to revive enjoyments of French & Saunders skits, OMG we were lucky they were there; now of course just go to youtube; but it is not exactly the same as waiting all week for a half hour episode to laugh. So much of our living now is in other times, as it were, or places as in Facebook, through the imagination and things that happen in your secret mind while like the now is going on outside [how I love just typing fast, anything, probably why I became a writer in the first place]. There are so many blog posts who would read this one, who would want to, and why, anyway, here they have given me this forum to blather on:- it has been in my mind lately that I was on a Greek Island and one had Mummamia moment, and parody of Momma Mia, at the same time as living one myself with a couple of Robert's friends, she loving Dawn, me Jennifer, she Julie and me Meryl etc; because it was a single day for her and Robert's friend it was like stepping into a movie, and tv., and I laughed and loved it alongside, having the Greek Is food and swim in the blue Mediterranean and into a sea-grotto-smugglers' cave tourist thing, while this what I lived was as much as sham as living second hand movie dream or tv parody, because the underbelly truth was lurking like a deep water shark ready to bite my bum with its actuality. So I contributed to the ongoing novel that is facebook this morning when someone posted a joke saying to Dickens, well tell me was it the best of times or the worst of times? It can hardly have been both. I wrote, well they weren't boring times. Hence my head a little bit in the French revolution, a little bit in Victorian England and a little bit with Byron whom I am also reading Childe Harold of, a little bit here and now, and a little bit there where the next youtube clip of Jennifer and Dawn is catching up to itself on slow broadband for me to enjoy, but really I should be somewhere else doing something else, and I haven't had breakfast yet and I have been up 5 hours, awake for 6. I tell you I am a scattered piece of work who'd better stop this pointlessness, except I wanted to say, Neptune into Pisces, my sign, for the next 14 years, I hope in this time to achieve spiritual awareness of whatever spirit there is, sou-ego notwithstanding.