I've been having the strong desire lately to talk about myself! To tell my story. To let people know what it's like to be me, to have been me getting to this point. I've read that talking about oneself triggers the pleasure centers in the brain, the places that get stimulated by drinking, eating, having sex and/or using drugs. I guess talking about oneself is pretty harmless unless one does it excessively and it then has the opposite effect that one intends. Instead of bringing people closer, excessive talking about oneself tends to drive others away. So it's times like this that I really miss my mother. It seems to be true, generally that one's mother cares much more about you and/or me than anyone else will in our entire lifetimes, that they are generally interested in the minutiae of our lives over all others. And what a gift that is! My mother and her sister, pictured here, loved me without limits and were always willing to listen to whatever passing thought or insight I wished to discuss. I suppose that my being an only child, and the only girl born into the extended family fed into that. I understand that many people have had uncaring and uninterested mothers but I did not! My mom passed away in 2009 from Parkinson's Disease and my aunt in 2012 from a brain aneurysm. They were both 80 years old when they died. I live an ordinary life and have unremarkable pursuits, but sometimes I wish I could still feel as important as I did when talking with my mom and my aunt.