December 11, 1976 (Letter from Connie)

I really hadn't written, eh?  Well that shows you how bonkers I really was.  The problem boiled down to the fact that after being so far from everyone and everything I most love, for so long, the idea of being even further away, and apart, upset me.  As awful as it sounds, I would look upon the Eiffel Tower with empty emotion.  Huh.  Looks just like the pictures. I was upset and confused, and upset and confused about being upset and confused, and on and on.  Was a bummer.

The job still goes well.  I got frustrated because the cataloging goes so slowly.  But when I have to be reference librarian, cataloger, cataloging clerk, circulation clerk and page, all rolled into one, what can you expect.  Can't seem to catalog more than about 75 books a week, and that's too slow.  Did I tell you that I've published two subject bibliographies?  Really didn't have any idea of the enormity of the project, when I first took it on.  Well, now I know.  To do a really complete job is very time consuming.

Ran to Seattle, of course for Thanksgiving.  Had a really terrific time, as always.  Ran around trying to see everyone, go everywhere, do everything.  I really get strung out by the end of the week, but of course I love it!  There's so much to do there, and nothing here I really care to do.  Odd, what?

But then, Wyoming and I walk to the beat of different drummers.  After a year, I don't really have what I could call close friends.  Oh, drinking buddies, and people to go to lunch with, but not people who just come over, or to do silly things with (like playing pinochle til 3 AM, or to have a mock English tea with.)  For the longest time I thought it must be me.  But the weirdest thing happened the other day.  Get this.  My friend Terry and hubby and six year old son were all born and raised in Wyoming (about 200 miles from here); hubby graduated from the University at Laramie; they've lived in Cheyenne about about two years; son goes to preschool here.  Both Terry and Rocky are young, personable, cheery people, good partiers (an important thing here), into things like church, and clubs, and classes.  All the ingredients for knowing everybody, wouldn't you say.  (This is a long story, so hang on.)  Well Terry was talking about going up to Sheridan for Christmas, the other day, and the problems they'd have with the animals.  She didn't want to put them in a kennel, and she was worried about leaving enough food out for them for the week.  But couldn't you have someone come over to feed them, I asked?  Well, Cathy (Terry's cousin, who lives in town), is going to be gone that week.  The dog doesn't like strangers, Terry said, and she was afraid the dog might bite someone.  GOOD GOD!!  Do you realize what that means?  Other than Cathy, there's no one in town the dog knows well enough not to worry about -- and that means that Terry and Rocky don't have any really close friends here either.  What a mind blower.. It's not just me.  The rhythm of Wyoming, at least as I've been able to understand it, is that you know people, and party, and go places, but emotionally at least, all but family keep their distance. And I mean, almost literally, blood family.  That's not what I'm used to at all, and up to now it really confused me.  I'm used to people becoming very close, relatively quickly:  with someone you really click with, after just a few weeks, you're running back and forth to each others houses, raiding each other's refrigerators, you pop over for a minute and stay all week because everyone's having too good a time to leave.  Just that whole nonchalant relaxed scene.  It was always like that for me in Seattle (and still is), and it was becoming that in Montana by the time I left.  Getting bit by the family dog is the very least of your worries:  when he barks, as sometimes happens, it's just "Oh shut up, Samm -- don't you recognize me?"   I kept wondering why no one called, why I never felt that the climate was receptive for me to call, or to over, or to invite folks in.  I kept thinking it was me.  No.  I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with this, it's just the way things are here, that's all.  But now, knowing that, it's easier.  I'm not saying I'll stay, but at least now I can flow with a little easier  Until I can leave.

I really love that card you sent.  Don't recognize the scene -- it is "Bringing Up Baby?  Only saw that once, years ago.  If it's not that one, must be something rather like it; one of those marvelous silly romps with Hepburn-Grant (one of my favorite teams).  I'm still so envious of you with all your access to great films.  A few show up here on the toob (shopped all to hell).  And there are a couple of good movie house in Denver, but that's 100 miles away on often iffy roads.  Would you believe I'd never seen "King Kong"?  Caught half or it on TV last night (the last half) - -most interesting.  My friends her think I'm really odd because I won't see stuff like Earthquake, or The Omen, and prefer GWTW or King Kong, or even Bambi. SO I'm weird, so what?

When I was home at Thanksgiving I had a marvelous 4-hour lunch with an old dear friend.  Again people here think it's really odd that I could enjoy spending that much time with a person 50 years old (she was a high school teacher of mine, and has since become one of my two or three Most Influential People, like Ethel Hill).  Ah, what a good time we had (at Boondocks, as luck would have it).  Just to have the time together.  She said something too, about time, that I must pass on to you.  She said that it's commonly said, and most people think, that the most important thing we have is our health.  Health is important, surely, but the most important things is time.  Time to think, to enjoy, to be with the people you most love, to do what you most enjoy.  Health is important only because it gives you the time.  How obvious of course, but I'd never really thought about it quite in that context before -- and how suddenly that idea jerks everything into focus.  It isn't just a cliche -- life is too short to spend minutes, let alone years wasted, wasting the time. Oh, I've gotta get out of here.  The years I've wasted here, off in the boondocks, away from all I hold dear.

In that same line, I talked to Lynne Stevenson the other day.  She's now at Carroll of course.  We agreed that three years in the wilderness, cut off from everything is long enough, is enough dues paid to our profession, enough apprenticeship.  Now it's our turn to get instead of just give.  She'll be quitting Carroll, moving back to the coast, and going back to school in the summer.  And I'm determined to move back to Seattle late summer or early fall.  (Time is short, because of all those Rocky Mountain passes I wont' drive over in the winter with everything I own in the backseat of my Volkswagen).  Unfortunately I can't very well live in Seattle and keep my terrific job here.  So I'll just have to try and find something halfway as good.  I'm going to start looking after the Christmas rush. It's out there somewhere, I know it is.  And I'll find it.

Now you'll probably be thoroughly disgusted with me for this, but here goes.  (But then again, you probably would understand.)  In the ever present search for easy answers, and always  being afraid of making the wrong choices, and wanting the future known and not stumbled over, I went to a psychic in Victoria B.C. over Thanksgiving.  Pam had gone to see this woman before, and had been helped and impressed.  I'd felt I was drifting and stagnating at the same time, anxious about choices made and to be made.  And besides, I figured it would be cheaper than going to a shrink. So I went.  It was terrific.  Whether she read my mind and told me what I wanted to know, or what, I don't know, and I really don't care.  From her at least I got the illusion of objectivity (which you'll never get from friends), and it all sounded great.  She kept saying that I was a very strong person, one of the strongest she's ever met.  (I'd been told that before, by friends, but always thought, this insecure, indecisive lump is "strong"?  Come on, now...)  But maybe I'm stronger than I've thought. And she said, of 1977, that it would be a very good year, with things popping all the time.  That I would move back home, and have a great job, with more money and more responsibility (ugh!) , but that I would be able to handle it much better than I think I can.  So.  (She' didn't say I'd meet a "tall, dark stranger", but she did have good things to say in that line, too!)  All that I really wanted was a pat on the head and a little encouragement to keep me going,k and that's what I got; just a nice objective, You done good so far, just keep going, and, What was good will stay good, what was bad will get better.

(Good grief, this isn't a letter it's a tome!)

Am jetting off the 18th for Christmas.  (I make a decent salary, but Continental Airlines gets it all.) Besides the usual rushing around seeing people, I have all my Christmas shopping to do in three days.  I never get stuff here, it's too much of a mess hauling all that on the plane.  And I refuse to spend four days driving, so I fly.  Pretty stupid, wouldn't you say, to spend all that money flying Thanksgiving and Christmas?  I agree. Fun though!  It's common knowledge that I just plain don't have good sense!

Was just reading through your letter again.  I feel bad that the job isn't going so well anymore.  We both know how impossible the public library thing is anymore.  Hey, just had a thought (and tried to call you -- do you have a phone?)  I know of a public library job in Bremerton, Wash.  A friend of mine is leaving her job there to get four months vacation as a school librarian, so her job there, (or lat least some slot there) will be open, at the Kitsap Regional Public Library.   You could contact the head, Irene Henninger 1-206-377-3955.  Or you could always go back to Montana.  People don't seem to last long there, so there's usually a pretty good turnover....(a joke, a joke).   Would you like me to let you know if I hear of any PL jobs?  Fortunately or unfortunately about the only places I have any contacts are Montana and Western Washington.

As for that piano thing, I'm not very good, although I enjoy it immensely.  But then, considering that I've only really been playing since April I'm not too bad (flattering friends insist that I have natural ability).  I mark it off an enthusiasm.  As for duets, well I do play a mean duet at chopsticks....

As for reading, I go literally months between books these days.  Just can't get into it, or much of anything else these days besides TV and my music.  Sounds dreadful, don't you agree.  I have a bad case of ennui--

My favorite Mae West line is "When I'm good, I'm very, very good, and when I'm bad I'm TERRIFIC."  What a marvelous line!  The best I can say about my letters is that once I start I just keep going, but I have a hard time starting.  In other words, don't wait for me to write, please.

Take cre, and enjoy your Christmas with your family.  And we're going to have to make a point of getting together for those duets!

P.S.  Please forgive the typing, but you can't blame me for the spelling. I have a poorly educated typewriter.

June 27, 1976 (Letter from Connie)

I feel about two inches high.  I'd started a letter to you a couple of weeks ago, got sidetracked (due to one of this spring's jaunts), and found the #$%*&% unfinished, unmailed letter this morning.

So looks like I owe you some catching up for the last few weeks.  Went to Seattle over Memorial Day.  Tried to eat and drink my way through town, and see everyone, go everywhere, and do everything in three days.  Stayed over for a fourth, still hadn't made it, but by that time I was so exhausted I just went home.  Did manage to see my pals and my family.  My brother and his wife have bought some land (5 acres!) way north of Everett, and are planing on building within a year or so.  Went slogging up through it.  It's way out in the boondocks which suits them very well indeed. Had a chance to see my old neighbor Anke and her kids (did you ever gete a chance to meet them while you were in Seattle?  You couldn't forget Anke:  she's German, about 5'6:, slender and beautiful.)  It was a lucky chance getting to see them, because they left for Germany for the summer that next Tuesday.  She's the one I'm to meet and travel around with.  My mom called yesterday to tell me that rumor has it Anke might not be able to find someone to take care of the two children for those three weeks, and so might not be able to gad around with me.  Egads but that drops the bottom out of everything.  Well, maybe not:  Either we'll find someone to take the kids, or I'll just pop up to England (grumble grumble: I'm not in the mood to go to England), or we'll take them with us.  They're not bad kids (Mark's 10 and Kim's 9, and very nice, smart, well-behaved kids).  Doubt that they'd be interested in going to the Louvre, or clamering up to the Parthenon, but then maybe they might.  Either way, something will work out.  Has to.  Things have been going so well for this trip that it really feels as though God wants me to go -- and that nothing and nobody can stand in my way.

Where was I?  Oh.  After I got back from Seattle (thoroughly exhausted), I hung around Cheyenne for three days, and then hightailed it off to Denver for SLA for four.  Stayed in the Hilton (La-di-da!) with two others, so the bill was not too bad.  16th floor:  terrific view.  I've been to better conferences:  it seemed a little disjointed to me.  All the good workshops were scheduled at conflicting times (of course).  But the exhibits were good.  Ran into a couple of people I knew from Montana, including Ruth Solli (sp?), Lavern Kohl's daughter who now is head of the Reference Room at the State Library (Lavern's old job -- that sort of arrangement is Alma Jacob's way.)  Ruth is preetty nice -- looks so much like Lavern you could faint.  But things seem to be going pretty well there.  Darleen T. is still head of BPH -- I don't know whether they're planning on getting a professional in for the job.  Lynne Stevenson has left, and starts at Carroll College in August. (Talked to Lynne a few weeks ago:  seems Dick Peel was hiding in the woodwork in Helena all this time, and only last month (?) finally dug himself out to make his way to Phoenix.  NOT Salt Lake City, as I'd understood.  Something seemed to have happened, but nobody quite knows what, and from what Lynne said, nobody felt close enough to Dick to ask what.  Hmmm.  Well at least he's off to Phoenix now.)

After SLA, rushed back to Cheyenne, and have been working my little fingers to the bone (sort of) for the last few weeks.  The job has its ups and downs and I'm just now coming up from a down. When I got back from Denver, my desk was piled high with so much housekeeping crud that it took me three days to get through it.  Really hate that kind of junk:  orders, circulation, physical processing of new books  shelving, SHIFTING (BLECHH!!!)  So help me, everytime I imagine I see the Light At The End Of The Tunnel, the tunnel caves in.  The cave-in this time was 1.  A monster annotated bibliography we're going to have published, and 2. Six new boxes of books that got dug out of storage that I had to find something to do with, and 3. Umpteen zillion little interruptions to hep patrons, to do subject searches, to mess with carpenters building shelves (and not building shelves), annotations of new books for the newsletter, and on and on, ad nauseum.

Thing is, I like my job, and I keep telling myself that it suits me perfectly, but I want to go home. This bit of being twelve hundred miles from everybody gets me down.  I have drinking buddies in Cheyenne, but I don't really have any friends here: nobody to call up and gab with, or drop in on, or run off to see a movie with.  Helena was much better in that respect.  And everytime I call someone "at my back I always near, Ma Bell's winged cash register hurrying near" (to mutilate Andrew Marvell).  I can't drive to Seattle, it takes two full days each way, and to fly costs close to $200.  The only thing any one wants to do around here is get drunk.  So I go drinking, but drinking's

You mentioned in your letter about that time we were at the Northlake Tav, and how you were feeling so apprehensive, and how at Horatio's you felt something was blocking your way home.  (I could feel something was wrong, that you felt uncomfortable, but I couldn't figure out what it might be -- it never occurred to me that it might be something like that mess at Deer Lodge.)  I mention that because I seem to be surrounded by psychic people.  My mom called last Saturday.  Pam had gotten this really awful feeling, quite suddenly, and ran frantically from work (leaving her purse in the process -- so like Pam!, trying to find mom.  The target of fear must have mom, because she'd been up t Mike & Benita's, had been feeling weird, and drove home about as fast as a snail. She got home all right, and Pam's fear passed.  They tired to call me, to see it I was the target, but I was off shopping, and they finally got hold of me that evening.  I hadn't had any vibes, or any problems.  I tell ya, it really makes me mad:  everybody's psychic but me.  It's not fair -- I can't even tell when the phone's going to ring!!  Well, that's not absolutely true. I get weak vibes once in a while, but only for good things, and only about me.  Or maybe it's just luck.  Who's to say.  And then I have a lucky day (very important things happen for me every year for the last four, no, five, years on this one day, or close to it, and I'm lucky on the 14th, and especially Friday the 13th. Hmm.)

Been running around frantically trying to get ready for my trip.  Got my ticket, my Eurailpass, my International driver's license (just in case), an American Express card (just in case), my passport, a 26" suitcase, and on and on, and I get my traveler's checks next week.  And then you wouldn't believe my shopping list, all the wile-you're-over-there-do-you-think-you-could-pick-up...would you believe:  a case of German beer, two German beersteins, a German aviator's hat (7 1/2), some liquor filled chocolate, three loaves of German bread, some Italian jewelry, and an inflatable Greek god (in lieu of the real thing).  And of course big-hearted sucker that I am I always agree.  Who'm I trying to kid?  I love getting presents for people -- can I bring you something?

So I leave July 6th, and will be back August 4th.  Finally got my flight schedule:  have to be down at the airport in Denver at 8 a.m.  YECHH!  Finally figured out that the only way I could get there would be to take the 4:30 a.m. Greyhound from here.  Tried to bribe some of my pals at work to drive me down, but couldn't con anyone into getting up in time to pick me up at 6 a.m., drive 100 miles and turn around and rive 100 miles back.  It was a good try.  And then, of course, the plane gets in here at 2:30 a.m.  What fun. Told you that there's now some doubt that Anke would not be able to gad around with me.  Really hope that's not true.  Had my heart set on going to Italy -- ooh -- been reading the guidebooks about all the things to see in Rome and Florence, and my God, Naples.  We'll see. We'll see. I'm fated to go to Europe this summer, but I just don't quite know exactly where.  So maybe I'm fated to go back to England.  Be interesting to find out.

Have I told you about my black thumb, about how I will kill every plant I come near?  Well, seems to have changed.  Got three plants last fall, killed two of them, but the third one is a hearty little fellow and he's still hanging in there!  Even had to transplant him yesterday because he outgrew his little pot.  He's called a pepperomia (sp?) or something like that, and he has these really fat leaves, and might even turn into a tree or some such.  I'm really quite amazed. Then I got cuttings from a couple of plants at work, stuck them in water, and lo and behold if they didn't get roots.  Almost fell over.  Stuck them in some dirt yesterday, and I'm kind of anxious to see what happens.  One of them (a Wandering Jew??) has little mottled green leaves and looks diseased to me, but through giggles at my horticultural inanities I'm told it's supposed to look like that, so I guess it's OK.  Haven't got the faintest idea what the other one is, but it has green and purple striped leaves and really looks neat.  Hope they survive.  But then I wouldn't lay odds.  (I'm having some people watch my place while I'm gone, so I won't worry about them.)  They'll probably be very healthy while I'm gone, only for me to come back and kill them.  That's about my speed.)

Let me see.  I haven't read any books at all lately (I'm getting illiterate) but have you see "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest", or "Robin and Marion"? Superb!  Both of them.  Very, very different of course, but both very good.  The romantic in me loves R & M.  Audrey Hepburn is so gorgeous I could strangle her.  Drat.  She is now tied with Garbo in my book as The Most Beautiful Woman Ever Known.  Do manage to see a few good films on the tube here.  Saw "The Philadelphia Story" (Hepburn-Grant-Stewart, 1940, director by Cukor), and last night caught "Viva Zapata" (Brandon, 1952) -- that is a terrific film, screenplay by Steinbeck.  I was very impressed.  Bette Davis' "Jezebel" was on last week.  Was not impressed, but then I've never been impressed with her.

My house is an absolute sty (in other words, it looks as messy as usual).  Before I went to Seattle I ran around frantically cleaning every inch, so I hope the same urge hits me before I go off this time.  It better.  I don't' mind living in a filthy house, I just can't stand to have anyone see it.

Went out drinking last night (my bon Voyage party -- at least the first one).  Shouldn't have:  my almost ulcer that was now intermittently is, once more, and it is not fond of alcohol.  And I will not have that blasted thing messing up my German-Italian[-Greek feasting.  Looks like I take my Malox...

Looks like I've about run out of steam.  Again I apologize for my forgetfulness and for my typing.  Take care, and keep in touch (don't be as lousy a correspondent as I am, that is).  Would you believe that I almost envy you in New England over the 4th:  I get to watch the parade down main street Cheyenne -- but at least I get to miss the Frontier Days rodeo!!

Take care -- I'll send you a postcard from wherever.....

May 4, 1976 (Letter from Connie)

So good to hear from you.  I tell you, I looked at that letter and thought, Springfield, Mass - ? What is Paul doing in Springfield, Mass?  Well, it seems you're doing very well indeed.  I couldn't be more pleased!  And close to Boston and New York -- I could choke you.  Denver is close and Denver is OK.  But it's not Vancouver or San Francisco or Seattle or Boston.  Grumble.

And I really know what you mean about having your own place again.  I get along well with my mom -- but not constantly.  She came out for a week in March and it was really good to see her and gab for just hours without having to worry about Ma Bell.  But evenso -- and as much as I like her there were times when I was tense with her around all the time.  Guess I've been out too long to go back to living with Mom.  It was nice though -- she cooked me dinner and even did the dishes!

Went to the Wyoming Library Association convention.  I'm in to going to those things - -but it was a drag.  Going to the Special Libraries thing in Denver in June -- should be good.  Looking forward to that.  Oh -- and you're a "special librarian" now too!  I tell you, it's the only way to go.  SLA is a good group -- miles above ALA or any of the local groups.  You might look into it.

We finally got moved into our new building.  Would you believe I have like 200 boxes of books and no shelves.  I'm literally buried in boxes -- some stacked 8 boxes high.  Theoretically our shelves should be ready tomorrow (or the day after, or the day after that, or...)  Someday soon.  Or so we're told.

Finally got around to going to the doc and found out that I almost have an ulcer.  Out of pure vindictiveness I'd like to think it's all LaVern's fault.  But I have a sneaking suspicion that it comes from all my Wyoming partying -- not the booze, but the 7Up I mix with it.  Gonna have to get used to Bourbon and water.  Better for the health!

I tell you, this has been a terrific day.  Been toying with the idea of buzzing off to Europe.  (I know I've bored you with that before.)  But lately I've been getting cold feet, should I, shouldn't I, do I really want to go?   Anyway, Saturday I went to a travel agent and found out I could go by charter from Denver to Frankfurt for $399 round trip!  I couldn't believe it!  That's half the regular fare.  So today I ran over, plunked down my money and got all confirmed and everything.  And I leave July 6. Unfortunately I'll be here for the 4th.  Had dreams of spending the 4th out of the country -- say drinking a toast to the good ol' U.S. of A. from the  Champs Elysee.  Could not be.  Going with my friend Anke from Seattle -- she's German and speaks German (of course) and French.  Had hoped to go with Ginny Shoens (remember the Sunday morning waffles), but that's an on again off again thing.

I've really got this thing about planes it seems.  Flying off to Seattle for Memorial Day weekend.

Heard from Lynne Stevenson.  All at MSL is the usual shambles.  Lynne's resigned -- either to go back to school (in Sacramento) or to take the biomed job at Carroll College.  Whichever comes through.  Basically just sad stories from there.  So glad I got out when I did.

And all goes on the usually same sameness have.  Cheyenne's ok -- and you just wouldn't believe how happy I am with my job.  Especially now that I almost have shelves.

Take care, and keep in touch --

November 5, 1975 (Letter from Connie)

Uh, well, you see, it's like this -- I'm not in Montana anymore.  Got back there in September, gave my notice, packed my bags, and split.  I was scared -- I had no idea what I was getting into -- but it turned out to be really terrific -- about the smartest thing I've ever done!

I don't know if I told you about it in Seattle, although I didn't know much about it then.  Anyway, here I am in Cheyenne, setting up a library for the Department of Economic Planning and Development.  So far, I am back in my cubbyhole cataloging all day long -- and loving it!  It's all technical reports and government documents, just the kind of stuff I really like to work with.  I tell ya, this special library bit is really terrific.  Would you believe this is the first time I've not worked in a library per se, and that really is one of hte best things about it.  I'm the only librarian in sight, I don't get flack from anyone -- just pure cooperation and a lot of good vibes.  I'm totally my own boss, at least I made (essentially) all the decision about the library.  And when I need policy decisions I get them -- quick, clear, consistent, and livable.  The contract with the state library is really unbelievable   I've been here 3 weeks but it seems like I've always been here, and that' whole thing back in Helena just a bad dream.

It wasn't all bad -- I made some good friends there, and it was hard to leave them.  (But good news -- Lynne is driving down this weekend.  We're going to goof around in Denver.)  And then I miss my gorgeous apartment.  I'm in a one-bedroom basement -- yech -- small and gloomy.  But it's decent, unlike others I've seen here, and cheap.  And at least I have someplace to stay while I'm looking for the "dream place".

But on the other hand, I shouldn't be too anxious to move -- I really don't know how long I'll be there.  I'm here on a WICHE internship, and only have 3 months I'm sure of.  I might be extended for another 3 months, and they make noises about wanting a full-time librarian (and I make noises about wanting the job) but no promises as yet.  So I might be back in Seattle in January or I might be here forever.  And of course, as an intern, I'm not paid much, but I'm enjoying it so I don't care. I really thrive on independence -- and that's what I have here.  My boss is a doll, and there are such good vibes (a.k.a. "high morale") here.

Back in Montana I really wondered if I'd ever enjoy working again, if the lib. business was all a big mistake.  Well, Montana was the mistake -- 

As for Montana State Library news -- Dick is leaving at Thanksgiving as you know.  But did you know that LaVern has gone on leave!  From Oct 15 to Jan 1 (irony of ironies -- this was announced after I'd gotten the WICHE offer).  But decided to leave anyway.  No one knows for sure if she will be back.  And then that whole scene was so tense -- so LaVern or no I split.

Lynne is in charge of general services now and doing beautifully of course.

You mentioned the bad weather in Montana -- Montana maybe, but not here -- it's been gorgeous!

And then I finally am able to get channel Z from Denver (and most of the Denver stations).  I've seen a lot of dogs -- but also the fist two Johnny Weissmuller Tarzans.

Cheyenne is really all right -- a nice enough town, friendly people, and close to Denver and Ft. Collins -- what more could you ask?  Well, sail boats, and sea gulls, mist and fog and all that soft greenness -- well, I'm going back there at Christmas, and I rather think I'll live there again some day.  But hopefully not right away.  I like being away.

Well, that's about it -- life goes on, and for me, for now, marvelously.

Take care, keep in touch -- Something will turn up for you, relax till then!