Exit, Pursued By A Bear

An Unreliable Narrator


Last Post From Throbbing Manor
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

alliedmovers

This is happening now.

The movers are almost done loading my shit; Jeeves was loaded this morning. After they pull out and I hand TheSoonToBeExHusband keys to the house, I’m free.

I am free.

I’ve been a little too giddy about my impending freedom, but fuck it. The amount of back and forth about the marriage degrading and who gets what leaves me with one thought: Burn it all.

I’ll be in town for a few more days to do more paperwork and other odds and ends. My co-conspirator arrives later in the week to help me drive to the east coast, with a stop over in Detroit to see the east side contingent. I should be firmly planted at my new locale by the end of the weekend.

My stuff arrives mid next-week.

Throbbing Manor will be going up for sale within a few weeks. TheSoonToBeExHusband retains ownership of Throbbing Cabin. The divorce should be finalized within sixty days.

Then what?

I sleep for weeks.

xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013, 2010, 2008, 1998

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


Ladies and Gentlemen: My Brother
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

Because when it rains, it pours. Obviously.

My brother and I have had a tumultuous relationship stretching back to our teen years, but we’ve more or less made it work within the last few years with us living in the same city. When TheSoonToBeExHusband and I split, I started tapping those veins of people I’ve helped in the past financially to get some monetary relief as I was not bringing in a reliable income due to my writing sabbatical.

By this I mean, my brother.

I have a lot of open credit but after finally getting my credit in a really good place within the last few years AND not having currently having reliable income to pay it off every month, I was loathed to depend on credit to get me through the next six or so months.

So I asked him for a loan of $3K with a promise to return it back doubled when my divorce settled.

This was in late August.

He agreed to “whatever he could afford” and we were to meet up that weekend. Plans changed and near weekly, I’ve sent him a variation of the following text: “I’m leaving in X weeks. Please come by and pick up your generator and if you can, the money you can lend.”

For weeks he either ignored the text OR responded I needed to make shit right with our mother. I wish her the best of luck and wish her a long and happy life, but I have no intention of making up with her. This is why I grabbed a screenshot with the October 3 date in addition to today’s exchange, as proof of his lack of response.

In his late teens and early ’20s, he “borrowed” thousands from me to pay off his then credit card and medical debt (close to $15K).  Later, I also loaned him money to help with the deposit of his house. In 2005/06 when he needed money AGAIN because I was so weary of lending to him without making a dent in the past debt, I have a letter signed by him that was witnessed by a third-party with his intent to pay all of it back with interest.

After a few half-hearted payments he stopped, despite years of promises he would pay it all back. I didn’t even want all of it back or even half, just SOMETHING to show good faith.

Shortly after that, he started the training on becoming an electrician.

He now makes nearly $100K a year. He has a near or slightly over 800 credit score (he brags about it, how I know these things).

He has recently purchased a 2014 or 15 truck, cost was about $55K. Last year he bought and paid off (or nearly paid off) a $10K boat.

He also spends thousands on the restoration of cars and other big ticket hobbies.

So I would have thought that me asking for $3K (or anything really), given my own earning power (I made $62K a year while at my old MPOW. I’m now applying for jobs in my new area like mad that are all in the same range) and my credit history is top notch and how much I’ve loaned HIM over the course of his life AND WITH INTENT TO PAY BACK DOUBLE — would have been some kind of, “Hey. Lisa isn’t going to fuck me out of this.”

I was apparently wrong. But I’m not surprised.

Below is the text conversation from today. His last pot shot to me (not in the below exchange) was, “so get on twitter and report to the masses how bad a person I am.”

You asked and I delivered, dear brother. Don’t say I don’t keep my promises.

(Click for the full image. It reads left to right, top to bottom.)

mybrother

x0x0,
Lisa

P.S. After this exchange, I went through and unfriended his dormant FB account (he activates and deactivates depending if he’s looking to hook up with someone or not), people I’m related to by blood, and any of his and our mutual friends. Some of them were feeding him information because he knew things that were only published on FB when his account was dormant at the time.

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


Ladies and Gentlemen: My Brother
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

Because when it rains, it pours. Obviously.

My brother and I have had a tumultuous relationship stretching back to our teen years, but we’ve more or less made it work within the last few years with us living in the same city. When TheSoonToBeExHusband and I split, I started tapping those veins of people I’ve helped in the past financially to get some monetary relief as I was not bringing in a reliable income due to my writing sabbatical.

By this I mean, my brother.

I have a lot of open credit but after finally getting my credit in a really good place within the last few years AND not having currently having reliable income to pay it off every month, I was loathed to depend on credit to get me through the next six or so months.

So I asked him for a loan of $3K with a promise to return it back doubled when my divorce settled.

This was in late August.

He agreed to “whatever he could afford” and we were to meet up that weekend. Plans changed and near weekly, I’ve sent him a variation of the following text: “I’m leaving in X weeks. Please come by and pick up your generator and if you can, the money you can lend.”

For weeks he either ignored the text OR responded I needed to make shit right with our mother. I wish her the best of luck and wish her a long and happy life, but I have no intention of making up with her. This is why I grabbed a screenshot with the October 3 date in addition to today’s exchange, as proof of his lack of response.

In his late teens and early ’20s, he “borrowed” thousands from me to pay off his then credit card and medical debt (close to $15K).  Later, I also loaned him money to help with the deposit of his house. In 2005/06 when he needed money AGAIN because I was so weary of lending to him without making a dent in the past debt, I have a letter signed by him that was witnessed by a third-party with his intent to pay all of it back with interest.

After a few half-hearted payments he stopped, despite years of promises he would pay it all back. I didn’t even want all of it back or even half, just SOMETHING to show good faith.

Shortly after that, he started the training on becoming an electrician.

He now makes nearly $100K a year. He has a near or slightly over 800 credit score (he brags about it, how I know these things).

He has recently purchased a 2014 or 15 truck, cost was about $55K. Last year he bought and paid off (or nearly paid off) a $10K boat.

He also spends thousands on the restoration of cars and other big ticket hobbies.

So I would have thought that me asking for $3K (or anything really), given my own earning power (I made $62K a year while at my old MPOW. I’m now applying for jobs in my new area like mad that are all in the same range) and my credit history is top notch and how much I’ve loaned HIM over the course of his life AND WITH INTENT TO PAY BACK DOUBLE — would have been some kind of, “Hey. Lisa isn’t going to fuck me out of this.”

I was apparently wrong. But I’m not surprised.

Below is the text conversation from today. His last pot shot to me (not in the below exchange) was, “so get on twitter and report to the masses how bad a person I am.”

You asked and I delivered, dear brother. Don’t say I don’t keep my promises.

(Click for the full image. It reads left to right, top to bottom.)

mybrother

x0x0,
Lisa

P.S. After this exchange, I went through and unfriended his dormant FB account (he activates and deactivates depending if he’s looking to hook up with someone or not), people I’m related to by blood, and any of his and our mutual friends. Some of them were feeding him information because he knew things that were only published on FB when his account was dormant at the time.

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


There she goes
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

The Lisa Extended World Tour: 2014 Edition

1972 Toronto to Port Huron, MI
1985 Port Huron to Grand Rapids
1990 Grand Rapids to Toronto
1991 Toronto to Grand Rapids
1997 Grand Rapids to San Francisco
1999 San Francisco to DC
2003 DC to Grand Rapids
2009 Grand Rapids to Detroit
2011 Detroit to Grand Rapids
2014 Grand Rapids to East Coast

TheSoonToBeExHusband and I are in the throes of sorting, packing, tossing, and cleaning. If I could light everything on fire and be done, I certainly would. We accumulated a lot of shit for being in the house for only 3.5 years but the house still feels empty in some spaces; it is a strange juxtaposition but also a great metaphor of my life up until now.

The biggest concentration of Lisa-stuff is my office, which looks like a scene from Apocalypse Now. And being a librarian and all, my organizational skills are brilliant. So brilliant, the eye is fooled with how much is in here.

(There is a lot here.)

Divorcing, job hunting, apartment hunting, and moving at the same time started to take its toll. My plans were so fluid, they literally changed from one hour to the next because something was always coming up and things had to get readjusted. I had no concrete idea when I was leaving Grand Rapids but that I only wanted to be out before the snow falls. My partner in crime on the east coast and I sorted out what would be feasible when and agreed that the concentration is on the divorcing and moving. They’ve secured long-term, albeit temporary, lodgings for me which takes a lot of weight off my shoulders (as well alleviates money worries and long list of couch surfing).

The firm plans are as follows: I fly out on the 23rd and set up east coast things (storage, mail, etc). I come back on September 30th. Movers come October 13-16 and load up the truck. I leave on the 17th and start the drive east.

Once I’m settled east coast side, I wait for the chaos to subside and get cracking on the big projects like writing and researching opening up my lady-owned comic book store.

And just being deliriously full of joy every single day.

Track listing:
Intro – The xx
Miles Iz Ded – The Afghan Whigs
Natural One – Folk Implosion
Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors – Editors
He Can Only Hold Her – Amy Winehouse
Moving to L.A. – Art Brut
There Is No Other Way – Blur
Brother Misery – The Mercuries

xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2012, 2002, 2002

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


I am the bitter fat chick who told you “no”
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

This morning:

crazyex

After I sent him the message, I then blocked him on Facebook. I received this note shortly after.

Screen Shot 2014-09-11 at 3.19.49 PM

I told him to fuck off in 2003 and 2008.

This was his response in 2008 when I told him to fuck off:

Blurred 2008

In 2011 and 2012, he came back YET again. Knowing what happened before, I changed tactics. I created a fantastical story of two people who were always going to be missed soul mate connections, etc etc. He got bored, as I knew he would, and dropped me from Facebook not soon after. I had known when he was attempting to woo me then (despite I was very obviously married), he was living and involved with someone half our age.

Numerous people have copy of the original images with the name and phone number NOT blurred. I’m in the process of going off the grid and/or changing social media names and contact info to deter this from happening again.

If I don’t do something now, this will happen again and continue happening. I am not giving him that power anymore.

xoxo,
Lisa

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


Mix Tape: Rainy Wednesday and I Love You
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

I made you a mixed tape:

TRACK LISTING
Sangria – Remi
Swim Until You Can See Land – Frightened Rabbit
Call It Clear – Halloween, Alaska
I Just Love You More – Kate Nash
Aujourd’hui, ma vie ce’est d’la marde – Lisa LeBlanc
One Day Like This – Elbow
Make You Feel My Love – Adele
My Favorite Book – Stars
I’m Not In Love – Queen Latifah
All The Rage Back Home – Interpol
Love Will Tear Us Apart – Nouvelle Vague

xoxo,
Lisa

This Day In Lisa-Universe: 2013, 2010

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


everything is true, everything is a lie
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

Of the three of my main mental issues, Borderline Personality Disorder is the one I least talk about. BPD is behavioral and not chemical, but it does underscore a lot of my bipolarism so I don’t write about it too much. I also went through fairly extensive training using dialectical behavior therapy in the past and I’ve been fairly successful in controlling it.

These days it tends to rear its ugly head when I’m under extreme stress and that’s when my world starts to fall apart. The bipolar mania? I have been super awesome on controlling the triggers and impulsivity. The anxiety? I can self-care and if it’s bad, I can take a klonopin. But the BPD? This is the end game boss. I need all my hearts to wage this war.

The linchpin with BPD is that it is a relationship destroyer, because at its core it’s about abandonment issues as well as self-preservation. I could be in the most stable platonic or romantic relationship ever and I will be utterly convinced of a myriad of things are happening even if there has not been a word said or a hand raised. Attempting to verbalize it was hard then, because I sounded like a needy, jealous harpy. Because I knew, KNEW there was no reason to think these things. But I continued to let whatever those thoughts eat at me until I felt so rotten, I’d be the one who would do the lashing out and destroy the relationship. But after I got into treatment, and started working on it,  I could verbalize it and thus, reign the fucker in.

Except, apparently, this week.

With BPD, I’m always looking for protection and backup plans. Never you fear, in any relationship I’ve been in (platonic or romantic), I am always making sure I have a way out. Because you lot are all going to leave me one day and I need to protect myself. I get why some of my ex-lovers accused me of being duplicitous about some things, they weren’t far off but never in the ways they assumed.

In 14.5 hours, the car service is picking me up to take me to the airport so I can fly east to start building the foundation of my new life. There is a lot of apartment hunting, friend seeing, and other things happening. So it would seem pretty awesome for my brain NOW to decide to revolt and lead me down this trail with the following thoughts in my head:

  • TheSoonToBeExHusband whose never raised a hand to me, even in jest, is going to harm me in my sleep
    • This is later underscored when putting dishes away earlier this evening, I placed a chef’s knife in the butchers block and wondered which of our knives he would stab me with
  • TheSoonToBeExHusband, who does not have access or authority to any of my bank accounts or credit cards, will take what last of the cash I have
  • TheSoonToBeExHusband will hide/destroy my passport and immigration papers so I can’t leave the country or him (I’ve been seriously looking for a place to store my stuff that he can’t easily find it for the last four days.)
  • TheSoonToBeExHusband will lock me out of the house when I get back and leave me without a home or a car
  • The gracious host who is putting up with me for the next 3.5 days will ditch me at the airport
  • The gracious host, and everyone else I had plans to see this weekend, will ditch me en mass and I’ll be stuck in a hotel room, miserable, and broken hearted

Rationally, I know the likelihood of any of this happening is minute; I have a better chance of winning the lotto. Obviously I can’t fix number 1. Number 2 is illogical because he does not have access to any of what remains of my riches. Number 3 is also illogical because my name is on the title for both things, AND I have options to stay elsewhere if that did happen and I could rent a car. (And the proceed to hire the shark of a divorce lawyer I have spoken to and take him for everything.) Numbers 4 and 5, well, again illogical but again, I have cash on reserve to bail myself out.

See. Backup plans.

BPD is not rational or logical, it is a destroyer and gives no fucks about backup plans. It cares not for your puny logic or rational. All it know is that I’ve been abandoned before, thus it will happen again. With anyone, at anytime. Anywhere. With BPD thinking, I cannot make anyone happy. I cannot be happy. I cannot find joy.

It is so persuasive, that my heart feels like stone right now. It feels like I’m being ripped into shards because all that is coming that could be good, I do not deserve. I have never deserved. I will never be accepted or loved for me.

I, thankfully, kept my old notebooks from DBT training program. Thus this feeling is not permanent. This is an emotional state. Emotions are fleeting. I got myself here and it’s my responsibility to get myself out.

With that, I go take a bath.

xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


everything is true, everything is a lie
Reptile House
academichussy
Dear Internet,

Of the three of my main mental issues, Borderline Personality Disorder is the one I least talk about. BPD is behavioral and not chemical, but it does underscore a lot of my bipolarism so I don't write about it too much. I also went through fairly extensive training using dialectical behavior therapy in the past and I've been fairly successful in controlling it.

These days it tends to rear its ugly head when I'm under extreme stress and that's when my world starts to fall apart. The bipolar mania? I have been super awesome on controlling the triggers and impulsivity. The anxiety? I can self-care and if it's bad, I can take a klonopin. But the BPD? This is the end game boss. I need all my hearts to wage this war.

The linchpin with BPD is that it is a relationship destroyer, because at its core it's about abandonment issues as well as self-preservation. I could be in the most stable platonic or romantic relationship ever and I will be utterly convinced of a myriad of things are happening even if there has not been a word said or a hand raised. Attempting to verbalize it was hard then, because I sounded like a needy, jealous harpy. Because I knew, KNEW there was no reason to think these things. But I continued to let whatever those thoughts eat at me until I felt so rotten, I'd be the one who would do the lashing out and destroy the relationship. But after I got into treatment, and started working on it,  I could verbalize it and thus, reign the fucker in.

Except, apparently, this week.

With BPD, I'm always looking for protection and backup plans. Never you fear, in any relationship I've been in (platonic or romantic), I am always making sure I have a way out. Because you lot are all going to leave me one day and I need to protect myself. I get why some of my ex-lovers accused me of being duplicitous about some things, they weren't far off but never in the ways they assumed.

In 14.5 hours, the car service is picking me up to take me to the airport so I can fly east to start building the foundation of my new life. There is a lot of apartment hunting, friend seeing, and other things happening. So it would seem pretty awesome for my brain NOW to decide to revolt and lead me down this trail with the following thoughts in my head:

  • TheSoonToBeExHusband whose never raised a hand to me, even in jest, is going to harm me in my sleep

    • This is later underscored when putting dishes away earlier this evening, I placed a chef's knife in the butchers block and wondered which of our knives he would stab me with



  • TheSoonToBeExHusband, who does not have access or authority to any of my bank accounts or credit cards, will take what last of the cash I have

  • TheSoonToBeExHusband will hide/destroy my passport and immigration papers so I can't leave the country or him (I've been seriously looking for a place to store my stuff that he can't easily find it for the last four days.)

  • TheSoonToBeExHusband will lock me out of the house when I get back and leave me without a home or a car

  • The gracious host who is putting up with me for the next 3.5 days will ditch me at the airport

  • The gracious host, and everyone else I had plans to see this weekend, will ditch me en mass and I'll be stuck in a hotel room, miserable, and broken hearted


Rationally, I know the likelihood of any of this happening is minute; I have a better chance of winning the lotto. Obviously I can't fix number 1. Number 2 is illogical because he does not have access to any of what remains of my riches. Number 3 is also illogical because my name is on the title for both things, AND I have options to stay elsewhere if that did happen and I could rent a car. (And the proceed to hire the shark of a divorce lawyer I have spoken to and take him for everything.) Numbers 4 and 5, well, again illogical but again, I have cash on reserve to bail myself out.

See. Backup plans.

BPD is not rational or logical, it is a destroyer and gives no fucks about backup plans. It cares not for your puny logic or rational. All it know is that I've been abandoned before, thus it will happen again. With anyone, at anytime. Anywhere. With BPD thinking, I cannot make anyone happy. I cannot be happy. I cannot find joy.

It is so persuasive, that my heart feels like stone right now. It feels like I'm being ripped into shards because all that is coming that could be good, I do not deserve. I have never deserved. I will never be accepted or loved for me.
I, thankfully, kept my old notebooks from DBT training program. Thus this feeling is not permanent. This is an emotional state. Emotions are fleeting. I got myself here and it's my responsibility to get myself out.

With that, I go take a bath.

xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013


she who gives
Reptile House
academichussy

Dear Internet,

We’re rattle around the fancy house like ghosts with Restoration Hardware chains around our waists. We would give Miss Havisham a run for her money with our shenanigans.

On Monday, TheSoonToBeExHusband saw a nurse practitioner who put him on Wellbutrin, which seems to be working. He has an appointment in a few weeks to talk with his own shrink and to start making headway on working on the problems he needs to address. He has finally agreed that we need to be apart while he works on his problems and I work on mine; that the two of us together only hinder the other in our mutual goals of mental happiness. I am making no promises to him, which is why I don’t want to be only separated, I want to be divorced.

Because this is the core truth: Love often isn’t enough. It hurts. It breaks. It shatters, but it is truth.

I’m tired. A Lot.

My sleeping patterns have been fucked for a while because of the unmedicated mania, but now it’s worse. Thursday I napped for a few hours and dreamt I was walking around with lockjaw. No one in my dreams could understand what I was saying, which of course frustrated me even more. My mouth was aching when I woke up; thankfully none of my teeth were broken from the gnashing in my sleep.

On Friday, I posed the following to my Facebook wall,

PSA: Why you should masturbate on a regular basis:

If I had not attempted to masturbate this morning, I would not have found the lump in the left interior wall of my vagina, which turned out to be a filled Bartholin gland. If I had not taken myself to the ER this morning and gotten it checked, the gland could have gotten infected, which would have meant they would have gone in, drain the gland, and there was a mention of 4-6 week catheter and other fun stuff.

Instead, I take drugs, wear a maxi pad, and place a heating pad on my crotch to hope it drains by itself.

Masturbate! And often!

I have to spend a few hours a day with a heating pad on my crotch and take long baths. Good thing I like long baths.

So on top of it all, my vagina is now broken. I used to joke to the TheSoonToBeExHusband if he didn’t fuck me enough, I would get clogged.

And well, here we are.

Or it could be from my chronic masturbation the last few weeks of dreams and fantasies that I can now indulge in that I could not indulge before because it didn’t fit the parameters of my now dead marriage. Am I revealing too much? No, I think that was the problem to begin with: I was not revealing enough.

I have nothing left to lose here, in this world, and I don’t think many of you will understand the freedom that comes from this weight being lifted from my heart and soul. Things are clicking into place that were put on hold for a very long time, and as I reveal those plans slowly, some of you have expressed concern. I get it. I do. It all sounds stupidly overwhelming and incomprehensible. How do I know I’m not in mania right now?

Easy. Mania is about impulse. This is not impulse, this is about righting myself on the path I needed to be on so many years ago. If I was manic, I would be indulging in reckless behaviors and I’m not. It’s just that simple.

I’ve been lucid, clear, and in control of myself.

What I hadn’t expected as the result of the fallout of my marriage? Things like this:

creeper

The creeper is a high school boyfriend who dumped me when I wouldn’t put out. I was 15 and still a virgin. He was also fairly instrumental in helping promote my reputation as the high school whore when the swim team attempted to gang rape me at a sleep-away event for our science classes. I escaped by climbing out of the bathroom window when my two female cabin mates couldn’t smash down the cabin door. Of course we never told the adult chaperones on that trip, because hey, I was the girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Who’d believe me?

I found it intriguing he wanted to be FB BFFs a few years ago. Even more interesting was he never said a word to me until I did a beta readers request a few weeks ago about my new adventures in writing erotica. And then I became his unwilling mother confessor.

As I’ve been working on reclaiming my sensuality for the last couple of months, and have been more public about it. With the collapse of my marriage, he and numerous others have been circling like vultures because apparently being public about my masturbation habits and enjoying sex is an open invitation.

You know, because being blunt about sex means I’m just begging for it.

I started out this piece in a calm but sad space and became so fucking angry that I’m shaking. I have a lot of great support on both coasts, and instead of working with them to keep me in this nice sane place, I have to spend my extraneous energy fighting off sexual predators. Thanks. Much appreciated.

Thursday I’m flying out to the East coast for a much needed mini-break. I want to be somewhere where I won’t get yelled at. Or sued. Or harassed. I’ve got the best possible host lined up who is going to take very good care of me and I plan on being underground for a few days. There are those who know where I will be in case of emergencies but the rest of you? Bye. See you next Sunday afternoon.

xoxo,
Lisa

This Day In Lisa Universe: 1999

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


Collectioun of Cunnynge Curioustes for August 30, 2014
Reptile House
academichussy
Johann Georg Hainz's Cabinet of Curiosities, circa 1666. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Johann Georg Hainz’s Cabinet of Curiosities, circa 1666. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

During the Renaissance, cabinet of curiosities came into fashion as a collection of objects that would often defy classification. As a precursor to the modern museum, the cabinet referred to room(s), not actual furniture, of things that piqued the owners interest and would be collected and displayed in an aesthetically pleasing manner. Collectioun of Cunnynge Curioustes is my 21st century interpretation of that idea.

 

Dear Internet,

You can follow me on Pinterest on what I’m readingwatching, and listening.

Reading

Finished
Bagged & Boarded: The Last Musketeer

Watching

  • True Blood
    I can’t speak for the rest of you, but, this season blew big fat goat chunks. The tying up of the story lines, how it ended with so many of the characters, was cliched and overwrought. Thank fuck this show is over.
  • Rectify
    Beautiful, beautiful show. Beautifully written, acted, and directed. If your heart is not having the feels for Daniel Holden every week, something is fucking wrong with you. I cannot wait for season three to start next year.
  • Elementary
    I want to love this show, I do. Jonny Miller is superb and the episodes are compelling, but there is something missing in which I cannot put my finger on. The last five or six episodes have been hanging out on the DVR since May and I have no intention to watch them. With the new fall season to start soon, it seemed appropriate to ditch them and cancel the series.

Weekly watching: Outlander, The BridgeProject RunwayThe Almighty JohnsonsA Place To Call HomeLast Week Tonight with John OliverCosmos: A SpaceTime Odyssey

What have you read/watched/listened to this week?

x0x0,
lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe in: 1999

Originally published at Exit, Pursued By A Bear. You can comment here or there.


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