April 11th: Coming Home… Just in Time to Pay our Taxes…


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OK. So we splurged. Just a little. While we were in Boston, it was Will’s belated 21st birthday, so we had some nice dinners, took him out clothes’ shopping (Carly Simons You’re so vain playing in the background– yes, he is vain. When Caroline was born and Will visited the hospital, the first words out of his mouth were “So what do you think of my pants?” Never mind that little creature lying in mommy’s lap) and pretended we were on vacation.

We realized we were not when we came home. I mean, I suddenly remembered my estimated quarterly income taxes were due and Jon realized he was almost late paying our property taxes. Never mind general taxes: we always ask an extension for that. I’ve heard people bitch they don’t want to pay taxes at all for a millionaire who goes golfing every weekend and now seems to be promising he’ll blow up North Korea as well as Syria. So much for America first.

Work was calling this morning, and I had heaps of it, so all my translation work made me nostalgic for my Henry Miller project again and I decided to take the jump and start a GoFundMe campaign on my non-existent lunch break.Who needs universities to produce books no one reads? As an independent scholar, I can write my own book and set my own agenda.

That said, I was never raised to ask for money (very taboo in our house) so this took me way out of my comfort zone. However, if I can raise enough money to just fund the research (travel to libraries where Henry Miller Papers can be found), I can write the book on evenings and weekends and have my donors all share in its success. Here’s the link: https://www.gofundme.com/henrymillerrocks. (OMG, here’s a plug for GoFundMe, for whom I’m doing some work now as well: I just love how you can customize your own link, in case you hadn’t noticed that henry miller rocks is in there).

And by the way: there’s something in it for you if you donate: please click on my link, you wimp and find out what it is.

Because this cause is not the typical plea for help (read hardship: terminal diseases, lost homes, unpaid pet bills etc) you see on GFM, my hopes are rather dim, but after one hour, in rolled the first donation! Whoa, that’s kind of a thrilling moment, I must admit. The fact that there are actually people out there who believe in you… or maybe I should say, maybe people just donate because they pity my wimpy ass.

As for that other challenge: on our plane ride back, I managed to write another chapter of my campus novel, so I’m well ahead of schedule and should have a final first draft by the end of May.

Apologies. Another wimpy blog about nothing. I’m sorry but it’s time to get my shit together for the evening. I hope you’re enjoying yours and I do hope you owe nothing in taxes.

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