At 52 years old, I still like bad boys. My spine curves to the right. I worry about becoming a bag lady. I need at least 8 hours sleep. I’ve read none of The Classics. I’m a good photographer, but a terrible businesswoman. I wear a retainer at night…and an eye mask. The thought of my dog dying is unbearable. I’m a loner, but I still want to be invited. I need to clean my house. I swear too much. I eat popcorn and ice cream for dinner. Quite often, I think I’m pretty damn awesome but I wonder why nobody else notices…