...nothing here is promised, not one day... Lin-Manuel Miranda

Thank U
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In recent weeks, someone who mattered very much to me did me dirty, hurt me really badly. It wasn't like I hadn't been expecting it, but I'd hoped better of this person, someone who's been important in my life for a long time. I've gotten mixed messages over the years from this person, and still am not clear what the hell that was exactly, but it was ugly. Ugly and painful and left me wondering about my ability to judge people; am I naïve? Am I too trusting? Do I hear only what I want to? Dunno. Normally I'm pretty good at it, but this person is apparently pretty damn talented at getting past all my defenses and made me trust when I shouldn't. I don't like being taken for a fool (I know, no one does) but I've been pretty damn good at trusting my instincts about people for many years. The last situation was really really bad - so much so that I was and am so deeply hurt and angry that I can't quite shake it loose. The odd thing is that I neither cried nor yelled when it fell apart and that's not like me. I have emotions all OVER the place usually. I'm not very controlled when it comes to them; I stomp and cry and swear my head off and play Janis Joplin really really LOUD. But this situation has left me cold, angry and empty, and I haven't cried the way I expected to when I was hurt as badly as I've been.

Note - that was a prologue (for those who don't follow Dorothyl, we've been having another iteration of the "great prologue debate" recently. )

SOOOOO, what AM I going on about THIS time? I despise "cheer up" stuff. One of my favorite cartoons (and now that I have that book with the cd's of ALL the cartoons that ever appeared in the New Yorker, I hope I can find it) shows a very grumpy woman sitting in a chair. Her husband is wearing a clown face and is capering about, trying clearly to make her happyhappyhappy. The caption reads "STOP trying to cheer me up!"

There's no way for me to feel better about what happened. There are all of three people who know all about it and they've been MASSIVELY supportive and wonderful, even if deep down they are thinking "you moronic WEENIE". Which I can see them doing because well, I shoulda known. But none of them has said it. Which leads me to talk about how #$^*^!&$% GRATEFUL I am for my friends, especially in the last few weeks.

When I was fan guest of honor at Left Coast four years ago (four years ago? That can't be right) I never got to make my guest of honor speech which was, believe it or not, going to be about five minutes of "thank you". I was going to thank the editors, who bring us really good mysteries, and the authors who write them. And the magazine folks who bring us the publications. And the webfolks who bring us all the websites. And the list moms and the convention runners and the reviewers and the agents and on and on and on. It really would have been sort of fun; I would have named a few names because well, for example, I thought that Thom and Bryan should have been picked as fan GoHs before I was picked but um, er, well, I couldn't pass up what was likely to be my only trip EVER to Alaska. And there were some specific editors who'd done stuff like introduce me to new writers, and publicists who'd taken me out to dinner (ah, Matthew, we miss you) and well, YOU know. But I never got to make that speech and the catch is that four years later, the list is ever longer.

In the past few weeks, especially, two people have done astonishingly gracious and generous things to make my life a whole lot easier and better. And I will embarrass the bejesus out of them by naming names, and it's not right so I won't but to K and to L, my deepest thanks.

And I STILL wanna thank all those publicists who send me books and those editors who find authors whose stuff I wanna read, and writers who trust me to a) read and comment on their manuscripts and/or b) read and write reviews of their books. And people who write me and say nice things. Or who value my opinion, even if at times it's snarky and wrong. And to all you writers out there, without whom I would be a dribbling, wacked out basket case, thank you ever so very much

And oh wow for my friends, my bandmates, the Sad Anoraks, who never once even TRIED to whap me on the head and say "What were you THINKING, you BOZO!" nor have since said anything about how d-u-m-b I was, but who've taken my side, just because. And for making me laugh - not because you're trying to cheer me up but because you're flat out funny and smart and wise and witty. So especially to Cornelia and Louise and Shaz - DAMN, you're good.

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