I have a Costco-sized box of condoms in our hall closet, opened, right up in front, with a handful removed so nobody’s counting or keeping track if any go missing. Easy access, no questions asked. Like mints, take one. Take two. Just take. I’d prefer these horny teenagers save it for someone who matters, someone who will love them inside and out, to their very core and soul, and not
They love me, they love me not. Not talking about the kids, talking about the judges. And editors. And well, yeah. Had the New Year’s goal to submit, apply, audition, and not worry about acceptance … just keep writing … and it was all going so good, until the rejections started rolling in. My ego is ouching. After a successful debut in 2012, I am a Listen To Your Mother reject.