"Letters to my brother...in jail"

Mere’ is getting crazier by the nanosecond. She is indecisive and moody. I want desperately to kick her out of my home. She has already started accumulating baggage. Jesus, if only there were a delete button for problematic, real-life packages, huh? She doesn’t have the common sense yet to attempt to act normal for at least the 90-day trial period it takes to acquire and indoctrinate a new boyfriend. Which is a mixed blessing, ya know?

She is moving to Denton. She has been promised a job by a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend’s cousin’s nephew. My only prayer for her is that speed and hygiene be optional requirements of this new job.

Yesterday I asked her to not be so selfish and to consider other people’s feelings... And tonight I will be swinging a dead cat by the light of the waning moon, an act entirely more gratifying than having any expectations of Mere’.

Yesterday I caved in to shoe-lust and bought a pair of expensive, pink superheroish boots at Dillard’s, which go with absolutely nothing that I own – as simply reward for being Mere’’s mother.