People with a disregard for common courtesy often like to tout that you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. And this is sometimes true. But I know how easy it is to have your feelings hurt if you’re just left out in the cold with no explanation for behavior whatsoever. So here is my explanation. I didn’t call you back because you called later than I care to talk. I didn’t call you back because I already needed to call my aunt back, and I had no intention of doing that, either. I didn’t call you back because I was fixing supper, and I wanted to read a minute, and I still hadn’t showered, and I had an early morning today. I didn’t call you back because I was afraid you’d want to talk a long time. I didn’t call you back because I’d had a busy, socially filled-to-the-brim kind of day already. I didn’t call you back because I had company. I was talking to my neighbor. I didn’t call you back because I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to talk to you. And there are your reasons, since you so desire them. So now I hope that the next time you want to ask someone why they didn’t call you back, you&#8217…

Y’all probably think I’m a ridiculous sap, but I just want to say that I’m despondent over East Town Mall closing. Even though its glory days are more than a decade past, I’ll never forget the good ol’ days of walking around in a pack of best girlfriends all day Saturday, giggling and looking cool in our stone washed Guess jeans with layered slouch socks, crimped hair scraped back into neon scrunchies, and an armful of jelly bracelets every color of the rainbow. We’d hit 5-7-9 and Merry Go Round first, then the music store (singles tapes!), fawn over the puppies and kittens in the pet store, then maybe have a slice of pizza in the food court. We’d get mildly freaked out by the weird witchy stuff in Crystal Visions, check out clothes in Express and Limited, try on leather pants in Wilson’s Leather, buy some glitter nail polish from Claire’s, and pretend we were punk enough to pull off the tank tops in Rave. We’d point at boys with their long skater hair and follow them around till they went in the game store behind the waterfall. We’d go smell erasers in Hello Kitty and widen our eyes at the displays in the windows of Fredericks of Hollywood then make for Victoria Secret, pretending we were just there for lotion. We’d share pretzels…

Y’all probably think I’m a ridiculous sap, but I just want to say that I’m despondent over East Town Mall closing. Even though its glory days are more than a decade past, I’ll never forget the good ol’ days of walking around in a pack of best girlfriends all day Saturday, giggling and looking cool in our stone washed Guess jeans with layered slouch socks, crimped hair scraped back into neon scrunchies, and an armful of jelly bracelets every color of the rainbow. We’d hit 5-7-9 and Merry Go Round first, then the music store (singles tapes!), fawn over the puppies and kittens in the pet store, then maybe have a slice of pizza in the food court. We’d get mildly freaked out by the weird witchy stuff in Crystal Visions, check out clothes in Express and Limited, try on leather pants in Wilson’s Leather, buy some glitter nail polish from Claire’s, and pretend we were punk enough to pull off the tank tops in Rave. We’d point at boys with their long skater hair and follow them around till they went in the game store behind the waterfall. We’d go smell erasers in Hello Kitty and widen our eyes at the displays in the windows of Fredericks of Hollywood then make for Victoria Secret, pretending we were just there for lotion. We’d share pretzels…

I want to drive on roads with no traffic. And if I do pass someone, I want them to wave out the open window of their pickup truck. I want to be able to apply eyeliner like a pro, not like a left handed raccoon. I want to be able to do all the yoga without quivering. I want to live in an old house in an old city on the ocean with a widow’s walk, though I am no widow. Although I sometimes feel like one. I want to always work at an honest job. I want to keep the one I have. I want to grow things and tend to them with my hands. Tomatoes, aloe, squash. Lilies. Okra. I want to sleep without dreaming. I want to listen to good music and lay in the grass and watch the clouds and hunt for four-leaf clovers all afternoon and not wear shoes at all. I want people to adore my accent, always. I want to be called Amelia by people who love me. I want to go on a trip and not come back until I feel rested and healed. I want to eat cupcakes every day. I want to ride fast horses and read good books and have the softest bath towels in three counties. I want my glasses to stay put. I want to admire trees the rest of my days, and listen to wind chimes and not the honking of cars. I…

I get a bit of a break today. ‘Bout time. I read the other day that many don’t adhere to Lent on Sundays. I have been, primarily because I don’t attend church, and I have a whole bunch of people to pray for! I need every day. All I had to do today, besides pray, was meet my selected friend for breakfast (at my favorite breakfast joint) and get to work on time. That last part is easier said than done. But I was close enough if it came to horseshoes or hand grenades. AND I was a whole minute EARLY to IHOP. So that counts for something, right? The prayers are simple. I am to pray for her friends and family that are facing trials and tribulations. I was thinking on the way up the road this morning that we ask for a lot of things, but when we’re sick, that always rockets to the top of the list. When you’re sick, truly sick, not one other thing matters. You just want to be well. So I’ll pray for those first, and probably a bit more fervently in my mind. I don’t know what the rest of her tribe is going through, but I imagine it’s just life. Life can be daunting. I attended a funeral once, I think it was Joe Woods’, and the preacher said, “You’re either going…