Beam Me Up, Scotty-there's no intelligent life down here!

I didn't make that up-sadly-but I had it on a t-shirt, my all-time favorite, that I wore until it fell apart (I did wash it, I promise).

Did I sneak into the park on Monday night, when it was nice and dark, to set off fireworks? Hmmm...is the Pope Catholic? Of course I did. And I grabbed a friend to act as lookout. It was very dark-so we used really tiny flashlights. Nearly fell over and broke our necks-but it was an absolute hoot, and needed after the dramas of the government and country falling apart. The next thing would have been to get arrested-fireworks in July are illegal. I think the punishment is death, but I'm not sure. Probably-I'm a foreigner-worse, I'm American. I'll be shot.

The more I see and hear, the more entertaining life is here in Dipshit Central. Everyone is shouting at everyone else.Cameron was pontificating in Parliament this morning-I just caught it on the news, but I thought I would switch off before I threw up.

You look at Parliament, the government ministers, the cabinet-and you know for a fact that there is life after death.

I've taken myself off Tamoxifen-as of July 1st. Did I tell you? If I did, that is one reason why I told you twice: brain fog. It's a symptom of the medicine, not the beginning of dementia. Well, I certainly hope that is the case! There are so many things I don't have, that is one I certainly don't need. And I should know in around six weeks if all the tamoxifen symptoms clear up: brain fog, insomnia, leg cramps, and, of course, everybody's favorite: hair loss. Ugh-I'm so vain! But I was talking with Mr. Tan (oncologist) and he said that after three years on the medication I should be all right. If, God forbid, cancer returns-I'll deal with it, the same way I've dealt with everything else that has gone wrong in my life: with grace, courage, and a lot of swearing and kicking and screaming.

So that is your update for today. No doubt in my mind that someone else will jump ship from the government by tomorrow. By the end of the week, there will be nobody left. Brexit. Sounds like a cereal.