MOOP!

Going to Swarthmore was also mine. I hate to admit it, but that I went in that direction (one I had been only vaguely considering) probably was decided by a very poor romantic decision on my part. Even more defining is that without that decision my health would probably not have been caught up in Persistent Lyme Complex. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't make that decision where would I be now. I probably wouldn't be Herbert.

A decision to help out with serving ice cream, a chance desire for a game of D&D, asking a boy to clear my tray, a spur of the moment decision to go to PhilCon...

Deciding to talk to lady who complimented my boots in the ladies restroom sparked a conversation that sparked a job offer which made me really start to think about the things are and what I think is wrong with the current economy.

How much of my current life existed before Swarthmore? How much of my life (good and bad) as it is now comes out of a kiss that should not have ever happened?

Love,
Herbert