V’s out with friends, which is nice. She’s trying to put together a writing group, methinks it’s an excuse to get out some more. Which is also nice. She’s been upset about the fact that she haven’t more friends; she’s slowly seeing her hitherto lifelong friends less and less, as they’re simply more into their chosen home environment. And perhaps they’re also a bit jaloux of her, on account of her writing profession and, let’s face it, easier life. She hasn’t got 3 kids and a full-time job and a crazy ex-husband, like her friend Anja. And she’s not facing the medical and mental challenges of her recently-divorsed, ex-surgically enhanced and with an unstable and anxiety-prone kid girlfriend Sheila. So, yea, it’s difficult for her. She does require that regular girltalk, but she’s a tendency to attract rather needy friends, her friend Zenia, for example. I hope this writing group works out for her, I’ll certainly do what I can to spur her on.
Thank deer God her book is being published, at last. I couldn’t think what would happen to her if it hadn’t, or weren’t. I recall the horrible feeling of not being able to peddle my movie, what it did to me as a person.
Terrorism rears it ugly head, or heads. These religious-based attacks by ISIS on foreign soil, there’s little we can do about them. Well, bombing them at home sure hasn’t helped, though we of course continue to do so, imperially wise that we are. In the news this morning, fears of terrorists being easily able to apply poison to our public water facilities. So we’re there where V has bought water-bottles for me to take to work, so I won’t have to drink the Copenhagen water (Sorø water-supply is apparently deemed less of a likely target) and go down in infamic, infidel watery flames. I can appreciate her sentiment, I harbored it myself. Sign of the times. I hope – I really, really hope – that in 10-20 years’ time we’ll look back at a paragraph such as this and laugh. Meanwhile I’m hedging my bets.