I miss my mommy sometimes

I was reading a book today, a hilarious book by Christopher Moore called A Dirty Job and I read something my mom taught me, about how part of San Francisco is built on buried Gold Rush shops, and I realized I don't know any cool facts like that about where I live. I wanted to call my mom and talk to her about it but she died eleven years ago. That makes it kind of hard, I guess.

And on the subject of grief, I've developed an ear for true writing about grief and Mr. Moore knows his stuff. When someone you love very much dies, especially unexpectedly, you can recognize falseness when you run into it. Someone at a casting agency once told me that I'm a better actress since Dan died because now I cry at the drop of a hat. When I read anything that makes me sad I cry because it brings all that old pain right back up again. And it could be anything, it could be a story about a cat getting lost, it doesn't matter, any pain is enough to turn into lots of pain. And Mr. Moore seems to understand this and describes it really well in this book, which really is a comedy, but it's a comedy about death so there's plenty of grief involved.