Share 1: It turns out that blond friend got overworked again last week, and he had to cancel Saturday’s reading exchange so he could rest 
completely understandable. Sucks that just when he thinks his workload is manageable, his boss pulls a funny one on him 
he did show up to write night yesterday. On the way home, he said that he’d let me know when he’s free for a reading exchange as soon as his free time doesn’t overlap with his exhaustion 
Share 2: So last week, one of my friends visited me in Chicago, and we explored the northwest neighborhoods of Logan Square and Wicker Park this time. We met up at Katherine Anne’s for some really good hot chocolate—which he agreed was the best hot chocolate in town, the hazelnut hot chocolate being his favorite—and then walked the Bloomingdale Trail to Wicker Park. We stopped by Myopic Books, a huge used bookstore in the neighborhood, and my friend was able to find a book he had read as a kid!
And call us immature, but we laughed so hard when we saw this page 
The book was in mint condition and priced at $11.50, so he bought it. He couldn’t find the sequels, though. Used bookstore moment.
Oh, this was also the hangout where he and I were lamenting how schoolchildren these days weren’t reading as much. My generation used to flex with books—if you brought your shiny hardcover copy of Geronimo Stilton’s Kingdom of Fantasy, you were automatically cool. Meanwhile his younger sister’s attention span’s too short to go through The Hunger Games. Tragic
Share 3: A lot of sharing, I know 
this one is only somewhat related so I’ll hide this under details, but it does concern the older guy from the write night group.
clicky
I had a broken tower fan that I wanted to fix but lacked the tools, so I asked my friends if any of them could help me fix it. No-milk was willing to help, so I hauled my fan over to her apartment so we could figure out how to fix it.
We ended up talking quite a bit while trying to crack it open. When I admitted that I was reluctant to hang out with our thirty-year-old friend beyond write nights, she told me she feels the same way and also noticed that I’ve stopped inviting him to events. She admitted that she doesn’t have any positive things to say about him—she’d gotten offended on my behalf when he’d constantly interrupt me and mask criticisms as questions (for example, when he asked her, “Is it just me or does Stella never ask questions?”), disliked how he constantly made himself the victim, and was annoyed that he was not receptive to advice even if he’s asked for it in the first place.
One night, when he was feeling down after his lunch date got canceled that day, she stayed back at the tea bar to listen and give him advice (which he asked for). Not only did he not take her advice, but apparently, when she mentioned something about sex and romantic relationships, he asked her: “Why do you always bring up sex?”
Her reaction was: “I’ve been talking to you about not sex for more than an hour, and it wasn’t registering!”
The irony was that he was the one who’s been far more focused on sex, whereas she almost never brings it up, if at all.
When it turned out that we couldn’t open the fan that night because we didn’t have a long-enough screwdriver, I apologized for the inconvenience. She said it was fine since we got to hang out; in fact, she was relieved I said something about the thirty-year-old, because she wanted to vent about him so badly that she’s even ranted to her cousin about him 
it was cathartic for both of us.
On one hand, it does feel a bit sad. On the other hand, considering his age (and how he’s used it to invalidate people’s opinions), he only has himself to blame for being a less pleasant person to hang out with.
My fan may not have gotten fixed immediately, but man am I glad that I came over to her place. I was starting to wonder if I was harsh, crazy, or all these other things, and she was there to assure me that I was fine and that she was annoyed with him too
Progress: It’s small, but I’ve managed to add about a hundred words to Chapter LXV of Blood Will Tell. I don’t know when I’ll finish it, but the pieces are (very) slowly coming together!
“
For some reason, the term “seasons” bothers me. 
Why call it a series when you’re setting it up, but seasons on the public-facing side? 
thought everyone would’ve gotten it not long after.
