Resolutions? Naw.
Last year, I had goals for this blog, even if I didn’t state them out loud. It was my life raft from my corporate job, and I still harbored high hopes that it would save me from intellectual oblivion and possibly launch my career as a writer. This year is different. Last year, I treated this blog like a business (albeit a beloved business), and like a business it grew and changed, but not in the ways I thought it would. I advertised it, I went to a blogging conference, I tried this technique, tried that one. Some of this experience was rewarding, some of it wasn’t. Then, mid-year, something began…
The Event of a Lifetime
I’m usually in my pajamas by seven, and in bed by nine-thirty. A party animal I am not. But that night, when the concert hadn’t started by the promised seven–and then eight–o’clock I still felt awake. Probably adrenaline keeping me going. I hadn’t been so excited in a long time. This was the event of a lifetime for me. I could never justify the expense during the perpetual poverty of my twenties, so I had never been to a concert before. Truth be told, I still couldn’t justify the expense, but Mike knew how much this meant to me and sprung for tickets. It was time. They were coming to town,…
Christmas Gift Ideas
I am one of those wives everyone warns husbands about. When Mike asked me what I wanted for Christmas a few weeks back, I told him I didn’t really need anything. “I don’t want to get you something you need, I want to get you something you want,” he explained. Wise man, that Mike. Still, I couldn’t think of a blessed thing I wanted that could fit under our tree on December 25. I am fortunate enough to own my own piano. Mike gave me an old computer that works perfectly, and I bought a new phone just before getting laid off. I have a closet full of clothes for…
Surprise Neighbors, Or Why I Love Camping
“Shoot, I forgot the tinfoil. For the baked potatoes.” I looked at Mike, who kept his eyes ahead on the path’s gentle curves. It hugged the ocean, the way back to the campsite. “That’s okay. We’ll figure something out,” he said, pulling Rusty to heel. “We can use two pans to create an oven for them. Stick it over the fire.” “I didn’t bring pans,” I said. “None of the meals I planned included anything that needed a pan.” “What about the chili?” “You don’t need a pan for chili. You just set the can over the fire.” “Oh. Well, we’ll figure something out.” “We can ask someone at the campsite.…
Passions, Otherwise Known as Unhealthy Obsessions
Hey, lookey-here, another Finish-the-Sentence Friday, courtesy of Katie Hall! Any excuse I can find to indulge in this topic, since I am a very passionate person and sometimes journaling just doesn’t cut it. Plus, this is Friday, and I need to write something easy and non-serious so the first thing visible on this blog isn’t my first public attempt at poetry. Gah. I am very passionate about… Um, everything? More specifically, everything I write about on this blog? Do you need more detail? I guess so. I’m feeling lazy today this week. Must be a twenty-four hour tumor going around. Let me see if I can drill my passions down…
When it’s Plausible to Live in Two Cities
For something completely different, I am participating in Finish the Sentence Friday, because I read Katie Hall’s post, decided I wanted to write about this week’s prompt, and actually had time to do so. If I could live anywhere I’d live… Okay, first of all, I’m slightly tweaking the prompt, because anyone who knows anything about me knows I want to live somewhere in France or Italy more than I want a new baby kitten or a big scoop of gelato, so that wouldn’t be a fun topic. It’s predictable. I do NOT want to be predictable. So, I’m making a slight alteration… If you could live anywhere in the U.S., where would you…
Voulez-Vous?
“Voulez-vous avoir un rendez-vous avec moi?” “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” “Rendez-vous,” he pointed to me, pointed to himself. “Oh, no, no, merci,” I stammered, probably blushing. I hadn’t been asked out on many dates for a twenty-three old, so I hadn’t yet mastered the art of the effective rejection, even in English. Little did I know the persistency of French men… The young man turned to our friend Hisham and crooned a measure of the lyrical language I had yet to pick up. Hisham smiled at me. “My friend thinks you are very beautiful. He wants to take you on a date.” “Oh, tell him thank you, but I…
Camping on the Beach
One of my favorite times of year is fast approaching, and I am feeling the customary combination of giddy anticipation and frazzled nerves. No, I’m not talking about spring break – that ship sailed long ago (and my do I miss those days). Sometime between February and April every year, my entire family goes camping at the same location we’ve been going to since long before I was born. My grandparents took my dad and aunt and uncles when they were still toe-headed kids with scraped knees, and my initiation took place some time around my first birthday. Ever since, we have gravitated back to this quiet place at the edge…
Let’s Pretend
“Let’s pretend we’re mermaids!” I suggested to my sister. It is 1991, we had received The Little Mermaid video for Christmas, and we watched it any time mom would let us. Nene was two years younger, and thus agreeable to anything I suggested. Sometimes I think she was just happy I was being nice to her for a change, including her in my make-believe world. “Okay. But how can we do that when we don’t have a swimming pool?” she asked. “Mermaids don’t swim in pools,” I said, my impatience with her creeping into my voice. I reigned it in, though – I needed her. “We can pretend the hall closet is…
My Life is Not a Movie, My Life is Not a Novel
Do you remember when I told you I would have something funny for you yesterday? Well, by yesterday, I meant today. Sorry about the confusion. I don’t even know how funny this is going to be, either. Am I even funny? Wait, don’t answer that – this is spiraling out of control. Let’s just say it will be irreverent. I can commit to irreverent. That said… My life is not a movie. It is not a novel, either. I have to remind myself of that far less frequently as I age, but yes, at thirty years old, I still have a tendency to live in la-la land. I like it there. It’s cozy and…
