Tag: kinky boots

Each year I love to promise myself I’ll get better at blogging regularly, then fail, then try to redeem myself with the very bare minimum of a year-in-review post. It’s really only so one day, my offspring have some piece of me left to ignore.

*Note: recap focuses primarily on, as Miss Piggy would say, “Moi!” (And French people I suppose if you’re nitpicking.) There’s a bit of family stuff but not too much, not ‘cos it didn’t happen (which it definitely did, and by Bowie, my nerves are frayed), but because my kids tend to value “privacy.” Quotation marks intended. I really can’t connect with youth.

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There have only been a few times in my life when I’ve found myself unable to get a piece of art out of my head. The first was Franco Zefferelli’s Romeo and Juliet, which I had pretty much on repeat on our VHS player from age 3 to 5. I know. Weird. I didn’t know what any of the words meant, but I was completely entranced with the music and the beauty and bawled my eyes out on each and every viewing. (As a side note, I cannot watch it to this day without sobbing, much to my kids’ amusement).…

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