Next up, Groundhog's Day

Alice doesn't have much to say in favor of January, except that it marks the end of the holiday trifecta. Other than that, it is a cold, dark month, and all Alice and the off-White Rabbit can do is wait for Groundhog's Day.

This January will mark 15 years since Alice's father died. There are no words for what she feels. He has been gone 1/3 of Alice's life, a fraction that astounds her. How to explain, that the world moves on, and part of Alice will never be able to accept the whys and wherefores about her father that led to his early demise.

There are some conversations Alice has tried to have with her family, and they aren't interested. Isn't insanity doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results? If so, Alice has a place to go, to hide within herself, where she knows what to expect and hopes that some day, it will provide comfort.

Meanwhile, Alice is on hiatus. Her brain is frozen. She will, however, defrost -- preferably sooner rather than later -- but she's not sure her opinion counts for very much when brain freezes hit. Perhaps after the meltdown is complete, she will reassemble the pieces, and imitate the person she once was, the person she can be when her synapses are not short-circuiting.

For now, Alice is off to warmer climates. The tropics are very compelling in winter. Perhaps the change of venue will help the brain reassemble itself into something usable and witty. One day, Alice believes it will. When it does, she will be the first to let you know.